Death Is A Rule
by AlexFalTon
Summary: Twenty-Four tributes in a game of life and death! Only one will survive! This is going to be so much fun! Welcome to the 172nd Hunger Games! (SYOT CLOSED)
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

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 **Patricia Lovemunch - Head Gamemaker of 172nd Hunger Game**

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" _Stupid people are dangerous."_

\- Suzanne Collins, _The Hunger Games_

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Have you ever heard anyone screamed out of sheer joy before? So much so that you broke eardrums?

That's how I felt when the prez made me the Head Gamemaker back two years ago.

I was but a simple computer designer - _I know right, you wouldn't consider me a tech geek by the way I dress_ \- way back when. Then boom. Bang. Squee. I entered what I thought would be a great arena and President Chambers thought it was a great idea.

Want to know what it was? Well, if you asked so politely.

It was a Candy Crush Arena! I got that idea based upon that old board game Candy Land. I thought the kids would love it! It's was just so colorful, who wouldn't like it!? And all that candy! I am so so so happy to be Gamemaker again!

Last year was decent. I made a medieval type of arena. It's just that I wished for a better Victor! Not that ugly hussie Paprika! Simple unnatural, that victor. And after I tried my best to kill her. The nerve of that girl! I loved two years ago, but not the one after that. Spoiling my fun, I'll make sure District 9 has a hard time this year.

Perhaps I'll get a career victor this time. Those are the perfect type of victors.

"Mrs. Love," a voice addressed.

I turned my head around to my darling assistant Aaron Irontyde. Oh, he has such a wonderful suit today. So professional, so exquisite. His purple hair is radiating as it always has. His fuzzy beard as well. Oh, I could eat him if I didn't have a culture on me. Shame, it's the one time I would willingly act like a barbarian from the outliner district.

"Yes, Aaron," I replied, cheerily.

"We are needed in the Game Room. President Chambers is waiting there as well," Aaron informed with that hot stoic look on his face unless you count that one brow twitch stoic, but he's still hot and muscular. "Also, I must tell you once again to call me Mr. Blacktyde or Vice Gamemaker, Mrs. Love. Keep it professional."

Why do I like him again? Oh, right. Handsome, strong, and he's a living god with the paperwork around here. It wouldn't hurt him to liven up a little, though.

"Very well, _Vice Gamemaker_. Let's get the show on the road," I gave my reply. Practically skipping all the way we went.

I do need to keep up with appearances, however, taking a mirror out of my rainbow-colored coat. The mirror showed me a few strains of my swirly silver hair was a bit unkempt and fixed that right up. Checking further, I estimated that I looked as ready as ever. I winked at the mirror with my bright blue eyes. While I might not be the 10 out of 10 models like some drama queens here that remove all their body fat, I like to think of myself as gorgeous. My puffy cheeks have its adorable vibe going for me.

To the game room, I already see President Chambers.

"Good Evening, Mrs. Love," the president of Panem politely greeted in his deep voice.

I clapped my hands, "Mr. President. Are you here to see the arena I've been working on?"

The tall man, the president was, stiff as well in her personal opinion. He nodded, "Yes. I'm indeed curious about what you've been working on. I dislike your constant reports that keep saying 'It's a surprise'. Hardly something a woman your age should act like."

"Oh, posh. We both know you like it," I proclaimed, dismissing his last statement. Possibly the only one who could. While his stern clean-shaved face says one thing, his amused eyes say another. "Today's the day that surprise will come, Mr. President," I turned around to face a lower-ranked gamemaker. "Blackthorn. Can you show the arena on the big screen in front of us?"

"That's not my name!"

"It's your middle name, sweetheart. And it's so much better than Tom. Now stop being difficult and show our baby to our President," I responded.

Blackthorn grumbled but complied when he pressed a few buttons.

The big screen flashed and showed my great arena.

President Charon Chambers observed. "Is that tower... and an amusement park?"

"And so much more," I boasted, my lips twitching with excitement.

"I see. I'm not disappointed," he conceded. The nearest sort of praise you can get from him. Awesome. Just Awesome!

Then he took out a letter of sorts out of his dark suit. A dark plain business suit that matches his equally dark hair, it terrifies a lot of people. Don't know why? He seems nice to me.

He's somewhat handsome, but his personality could loosen up a bit. I'm pretty sure he's older than my father, only it's rude to ask someone's age, and I honestly don't care. No one in the Capital has wrinkles anyway. ~Thank you, advanced technology~

I grabbed into the letter he gave and looked at it curiously. "What's this?"

"A surprise," he replied in a monotone voice. Oh, clever president. Someone's a little vindictive.

Opening the letter, I read the packet after. My eye's opened dramatically, "Oh my."

The president nodded ever so slightly. "The district's need to learn a bit more of a lesson than the playgrounds you make. I want that twist done, Mrs. Love."

Reasonable, it's a bit harsh, but then again, so is life.

"It'll happen," I assured. "On Day Four perhaps. Does that sound reasonable to you, Mr. President?"

"As long as it happen's," he mentions. "Good day. And keep up the good work."

Charon Chambers walked away with his bodyguards. Honestly, why would he even keep them? Does he think someone would assassinate him? I snorted at the thought.

Aaron came up to me, "What was in the letter?"

"Just a child's worst nightmare. Don't you worry Aaron, it won't mess up our fun," I grinned. "Speaking of fun..."

"I refuse your date offer," Aaron flatly rejected. Come on! I didn't even say it! "Also, it's Vice Gamemaker to you, Mrs. Love."

I pouted. "Fine then. Be all boring."

He sighed.

I looked at him, "Is something the matter, _Mr. Irontyde_?"

"No. Nothing at all."

"Aaron..."

"It's simply a bit depressing," he relented, knowing how stubborn I can be.

"About what?"

"The Games. Is it right? Is it wrong? I'm going to be an uncle soon and the idea of my brother's child going to The Hunger Games is depressing."

I sighed, "I know right? Sometimes I think we Capatolites should have our own Hunger Games. Then we'll join the fun."

"That's not what I-" he was about to say something before he bit his lips, looking up. "Yes. That's why."

Aaron seemed so sad. Oh well, some things are just unrealistic to gain. Poor Aaron.

I twirled around the game room. "Alright, everyone. Get back to work. Tomorrow's going to be a wonderful day for Panem."

The anticipation is killing me.

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 **A/N: This is going to be my first SYOC. I don't plan on making a series. I just thought to start off this year by trying something new, and I wanted to try this. These kooky characters here are not the main characters. Those will be the tributes. Please PM me to submit. I will look forward to writing all those characters. The Tribute List is on my profile and if you have any questions: ask away.**


	2. Prologue: My Victor

**Prologue: My Victor**

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 **Paprika Riverbreath(D9) - Victor of the 171st Hunger Games**

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" _I don't want to survive. I want to live._ "

\- Solomon Northup, _12 Years a Slave_

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When I survived the Hunger Games, I don't know what I was thinking at the time. Joy. Relief. Anguish.

Very little felt like a victory.

That Hunger Games was a little strange in my opinion. A _lot_ tried to kill me. Mutts with sharp teeth that wanted to take a bit out of me, heavy rain that almost drowned me, Career's that thought my score of 7 was a threat. It was frightening to face it all. The whole 'may the odd's be ever in your favor' junk was looking downright fucked when I played the game. The feeling that nature itself was against me(I know it was the gamemakers, but that'show it felt like), made me lose hope.

I survived however against those odds. I'm not the type to cry or beg. My late father wouldn't want that. My sister and mother wouldn't want to see me die.

Now am I saying that I deserved to win? _Fuck no_. There were others. There are always those that have it worse than me, those that could use a victor. District 12 could be a good example. They haven't won in a while, but I'm far too selfish to live to care about them.

I'm not stupid. I know that the Gamemakers were aiming for me for some reason, so when about ten _fucking_ mutts were after me, I led them directly to the careers. I got three of them killed. One from District 2, and both from the seaside District 4, it was a risk I had to take.

Other than that, I killed two others. A little boy whose name I unfortunately know, it was Hector. He was sleeping and didn't feel a thing. During my tour, I had to see his parent's at District 5. _That_ was so goddam weird. It was weirder that they understood and accepted my apology. I mean who does that? I had dinner with them. They had dinner with the killer of their son. Fuck me, that was the politest moment I've been in my life.

My other kill was this girl from District One. We thought in the ballroom of a castle where the final fight was going to happen. Another funny moment in my life, there were knight mutts that ordered us to take a meal together before we killed one another. Now that was the weirdest dinner I ever had. She almost seemed nice, and she would've been a tough opponent if I haven't plugged my fork in her eye. She didn't last long after that.

Five kills in my name. I live with it. I drink once in a while. It's easy to be a drunk in District 9, being all about that grain and all. I'm not a Haymitch or a Chaff. I don't drink my problems away.

I'm in my mansion(I still can't believe it) in the Victor's Village. Resting my head back on the soft object known as a pillow. I looked down at my left arm, watching my dead father's old watch. It's almost noon.

Usually sleep come easy, but not now. It's because of the Reaping. It's going to start tomorrow.

"Dammit," I mumbled, rolled around her bed. I haven't slept all day, no matter how much she tried.

Fucking Hunger Games. Fucking Patricia. Fuck the president too. I want to say that so bad, but I'm ninety percent certain that my room is bugged.

"PAPRIKA!" a familiar annoying voice called out to me.

My bedroom door opened and onwards a red-headed little brat came to my bed. My little sister began to jump on my bed, "Wake up, Paprika! Wake up!"

"Shut the fuck up," I groaned tiredly, putting my hands on my ears.

"No," Bonny, the vixen, denied. "Paprikaaaaa...wake up. I don't want to take out the water gun."

I put my hands up. "Ok. Ok. I'm up. I swear."

Opening my eyes, I saw my little sister Bonny.

Her impatient green eyes were staring back at mine. Now, what does the little shit what?

"Your boyfriend is waiting outside," my smaller sister informed me.

I threw a pillow at my sister with sudden anger, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Aha," she said, unconvinced.

Calming yourself Paprika, she's only an eight year old. Not like she knows what romance is.

"Tell him to wait. I'll be there soon. Can you do that brat?" I told her.

She blew raspberries at me and went away. That made me laugh, something I'm sure the drowsiness helped. Was I anything like Bonny when I was younger? I don't think so. Dad alway's wanted to work in the fields before he was executed, which made me want to work and he didn't deny me the work. Probably the best decision I ever made. Gave me a good work effect and the muscle that helped me win in the arena.

I love my sister. My mother, Eva, however, is strained. I keep telling her to get better boyfriends, but she has horrible taste in men. Her, well, her previous 'job' is over. I'm a Victor. She doesn't even have to work anymore. I wish mo - _Eva-_ got something better to do before I became a victor.

Has it been a year since I worked out in the fields like many others in the district 9? Wow. It has.

Getting out of my bed, I stretched after. Got dressed in the regular green t-shirt and jeans. I never cared for what I wore anyway.

When I walked out, I saw Eva working in the kitchen. I looked at the back of her head, just standing there. Doing nothing while she's cooking god knows what.

Should I talk to her? Nah. Rather not waste my breath.

I got outside my home seeing my brown-haired best friend, Colt. Bonny was sprinting around him. Pestering him, no doubt. What is with her and trying to get me to date Colt? I'm fine without romance in my life.

My childhood friend looked back, "Good Morning."

"Good Morning."

"It's evening, Paprika," he mentions. Dam it, he tricked me. "You have bag's under your eyes."

"Aren't you the observant one?" I gave as a reply.

"Just saying," he put his hands up defensively. He probably already caught on _why_ I have bag's under my eyes.

I don't want to talk about it anyway if he asks.

"Are you scared because you're going to be mentoring?" my little sister bluntly questioned.

Or my little shit of sister would bring it up. Why the fuck not? The area around us was silent, while Colt and Bonny were looking at me. Waiting for me to respond.

"Fuck you, Bonny," I instinctively blurted out.

All she did was ignore me and blew raspberries my direction.

"Paprika," Colt said with that worrying tone I wish I could ignore. "I worry," he pointed at Bonny, " She's worried too and your moth-" he stopped himself after seeing my glare. "You haven't visited the orphanage in a week. We're not the only ones worried."

Alright, so maybe I've had a little meltdown where I shut myself out of everyone's contact. In hindsight, I realize I could've done better than lock myself in the mansion.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Then when will you," Colt addressed. His kind brown eyes were pleading, "Please. Let us help. Do you have anyone else you trust?"

Bonny ran towards me, the little clone of myself hugged me tightly. "Come on... Paprika. Tell us? We'll try our best."

I tried to get my sister out of my out of holding on to me, but my heart wasn't into it. She was pleading too. Shit, these guys are making it cliche. And I know they mean it. I don't want to, but at the same time, I _do_ want to. I trust them enough to tell them.

"Do the both of you know that it's been twenty-two year's since District 9 had a Victor?"

They winced, knowing the same.

"I don't think any kid is going to make it this year. It's going to be my job to help two hopeless kid's to their deaths," I stated. Forty-three kid's from this district didn't make it. I hated that. Knowing that even if I help, the District 9 kid's will most probably end up died. "Fuck! Just Fuck! I mean, I know what's it like sitting on that train. Standing and waving in that chariot. Training to get those scores. Pretending to smile in that interview. It's shit. Knowing that your day's away from dying in the arena."

The whole thing is shit. It's the closest word to describe the Hunger Games.

Bonny grabbed my right hand, and Colt reached out for my left. He looked focused on what to say next, "I can't say I know what's that like to suffer through that, and I can't pretend either. Only I know that seeing my best friend to suffer through this by herself is a fate I don't want for you."

"Yeah," Bonny chimed in, "What Colt said."

I looked at my smaller clone, with her red hair, that small nose, and stubborn green eyes. In some ways, she does remind me of myself. And Colt, while not stubborn like me or mine, he was alway's a concerned bastard, and he genuinely wants to help me.

"...Thanks," what else was there to say.

"We'll talk about it later," he promised and gave me a reassuring smile. "I think you should go check on that charity. Now that's something you should go check on."

"The fuck are you on about?"

"We're not the only one who misses you," Colt hinted.

That got me thinking a little, "The charity. Why should I go there? You're the one who runs the damn thing." It's true. Once I came back home, I cried. Then Colt got the idea of me using my new status to help him run a charity. His family is proud that he got his job running at his age. Shit, he's nineteen. I'm impressed too.

"You're the one keeping it going," he insisted. He's not wrong. Being a victor give's out a lot of mo~ney.

Well, that's not the whole story. President Chambers prostituted me to the highest bidder, and to those who thoughts they can get my bod, well, they had another thing coming to them. Like threatening them, and at times beating the shit out of them. It works surprisingly. Except for that one guy, Tom. He got off by my threats, and it got weird when he asked me to whi- eh, you know what? That doesn't matter. I'm not interested in Chamber's shit and I'm not going to do _that_. I lucked out.

And then, I threatened other Capatolites to donate money stuff to Colt's Charity. That also worked, and the best part is I got away with it. I smirked.

"Well, shit then. Let's get going," I offered an unexpected chuckle. I don't know why? I just felt like it.

I pulled both of them out of the front of my house, still holding them with my hands. On our way, I saw my neighbor(and mentor from my games), Barley Acoles, gardening in his front yard. He saw me, didn't smile or anything, and went back to gardening his pretty flowers. He left the mentoring to me this year, and I guess he deserves a break.

"Hey, Paprika. You're squeezing my hand just a little," Colt complained.

Bonny scoffed, "Stop being a baby."

She and I laughed, and Colt joined in.

God, I love these two.

We went to the direction of the orphanage I visit. The kids there smiled and ran up to me, asking me where I've been. I told them to fuck off, but they kept insisting that I should play hoop with them. I don't know how often these kid's smile, but they like it when I'm there. It made me happier as well, kept my mind of the games.

On the way to the charity, I lot of people were there. Whispering some shit when I came up there, offering goods and food to the homeless and less privileged of this shitty district.

Other's came by, wanting an autograph. Being famous is weird.

Colt said I made District 9 a better place. I try and I can.

I'm probably looking one of the luckiest victors in Panem.

It's just that I wish the two tributes this year could have some of my luck. So, I won't have to watch them die.

* * *

 **A/N: And that's my victor folks! Hope I did well. Some realism and some trauma usually come with being a victor. Paprika was meant to be a tribute in _Inferno: The 118th Hunger Games_ written by _TheMayflyProject_. But, I made a rookie mistake and posted this tribute on the reviews and not PM. I was such a simpleton back then. I thought it should practice writing, so why not her? Anyway, I hope you read MayflyProject's fic as well. **

**Paprika was an interesting character to write. Unlike Haymitch, she didn't have a paranoid president to kill her family. Paprika has issues like all victors, but she had people who cared for her and helped her. She lets those Capatolites have a piece of her mind(out of the president's view, of course) and made District 9 better. I think it's possible if someone as the right initiative and knives on some Capatolites junk. I alway's imagined Capatolites to be fragile or cowardly as long as they're not Peacemakers. So, that was fun.**

 **Now the reason I made this chapter is:**

 **1\. I felt the need to explore my world a bit. Preferably, in Paprika's perspective.**

 **2\. I have a problem.**

 **To the readers. Please PM me Districts 1 tributes. Or District 12. I don't want to continue any more prologues and move on with the reaping.**


	3. Chapter 1: Everyone's Favorite

**Chapter 1: Everyone's Favorite**

 **District One Reaping**

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 **Silver Chase - District One Male**

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" _Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters_ ,"

-Stephan King, _The Shining_

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The Game's are our tradition. They are a part of life. Many in District One know's this as a fact, and the other career district's as well.

District One is respected. Feared. Number one out of all any district in Panem. It makes me feel grateful to be born here, in Luxury. The training program's here help's us turn into warriors. Turned into _victors_. Men and women of mass prestige. Career's win the most. I'll be a career.

I'll be a career this year. Not one or two later, I decided stubbornly.

My older brother, Golden Chase, won the 168th Hunger Games. A famed man, a good career. Killed over six tributes, most of them poor outliners. Then his fought his district partner in the final of the games. A glorious event, everyone agreed. After all, they were both dating. In love as the Capatolites agreed. I snorted, love is for the weak. It only looked good on TV.

Ever since Gold won, he changed. He drinks now. He ignores me, like mother and father. I suppose I'm not worth his time anymore.

I'll make them _all_ regret ever setting me aside. My parents, those fuck's from the academy. Golden.

All of them, starting with that dumb brute that's suppose to be our district's volunteer this year.

"WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!" the dumbass screamed in pain

I scoffed, "What's the matter? Didn't the academy ever teach you to hold to handle pain?"

"You broke my fucking legs!" he shouted, and I know. I did that. My assessment is correct. He is a dumb brute, pointing out the obvious as he laid there on the ground. Holding on his to his bleeding leg, it was a humorous sight to behold. The plan was to lure in a false sense of security, catching the _slightly_ taller teenager off his game. He believed I wanted to _celebrate_ that he's going to volunteer and have a nice drink of alcohol before the Reaping. He deserves this for being so dumb.

I laughed at him, couldn't have held it back.

He noticed it, "What the laughing at?"

"You," I snickered.

His cry of anger and pain made me laugh even harder. This day will be one of the best. Starting with this idiot's broken leg, and then volunteer for the reaping.

I looked at the once handsome blonde, now bruised and beaten by me. "How do you like me now? All those time's you laughed at me, did you honestly think I would allow you to volunteer? No. No, that's never going to happen."

Taking out a knife from my pocket, I spun it expertly. The once volunteer's eyes widen in fear.

"You can't kill me. That's not going to help anyone," my victim spat.

I chuckled, "Who said I was going to kill you?" I bent my knee's down to his level, aiming my knife above his broken leg. "I just don't want to give you a chance to volunteer next year."

He shook his head, lips quickening in fear, "No, no, no, _NO!_ No-"

Thank god I took him in the poor alleyway of District One. His scream's only reached deaf ears as I left his leg useless for the rest of his life. Genius on my part, it's the reaping, so most everyone is at the town square and most of the peacekeepers.

Once said and done, I went towards my destiny.

My plan was perfect. A one of a kind. I beat(perhaps too far, but I don't give much of a damn) up the one who was supposed to volunteer, take his place, shout my name in front of Panem. Impress the Capital, become the leader of the Career's, and kill almost every tribute. I aim to beat Brutus's fifteen kill score. It's going to _my_ time to shine soon.

At the town hall, all the people age's 12 through 18 are getting ready for the escort to come in their separate lines.

I walked up to the Peacemaker to get process, and the man in the white police suit raised his brow when he saw my bloodied knuckles and a nice white business suit.

When I went to the sixteen-year-old section, other's next to noticed the blood on me and took a step back. I grinned at the fear I see, high on the excitement of what I'm about to do next.

For the most part, I'm happy to make it just in time for the escort to make it. The fancy dressed blue haired capitolite was sitting next to Golden. My dear brother, he's going to a surprise of a lifetime.

The mayor of District One was up, starting the reaping finally. Already talking about the Treaty of Treason, showing everyone in the crowd the same video every year, and finally calling the escort up.

"-And we of District One, welcome Jewels Howard!"

"Thank you, Mayor! Thank you, District One! I hope everyone here is looking forward to the Reaping!" the blue man riled up the crowd. Practically everyone cheered, I made sure to make my voice the loudest.

Jewels(I'm not sure if he's a boy or girl, the capitolite is so _blue_ ) walked up to the girl's glass ball, waiting to pick out a name(pointless, but it's a tradition). "Emery Smith," he called out.

"I VOLUNTEER!" the expected came. A tall ginger-haired girl shouted that and walked to the podium with her nice, but practical red blouse.

She went next to Jewels and moved to the microphone, "Bliss Lustra."

My future tribute partner, not sure what to make of her yet. But, I'm sure that the academy picked her for a reason.

"Bliss Lustra everyone!" he cheered, making everyone else cheer along with him.

Then, he moved to the boy's glass ball, taking out a small piece of paper, "Daniel Twix."

Everyone was waiting, waiting, and then everyone grew concerned about where the district volunteer is. Now is my moment.

"I VOLUNTEER!" I shouted, grinning my ass off.

Walking calmly, other's look at me and wonder 'who is this guy?'

Walking up to Jewels, and leaned to the microphone, I announced my name proudly to everyone, "Silver Chase."

Jewels squirmed a little while looking that the drops of blood I have on me, but managed to calm himself.

I put my hand's forward to my _slightly_ taller partner in the games. Bliss took my hand a shook it, not even flinching at the blood on it. Alright, just for that, I'll say that she earned her place in the games.

"To the District One tributes! Bliss Lustra and Silver Chase! May the odd's ever be in their favor," Jewels shouted and once more, everyone cheered. I smirked and waved, while Gliss was looking coldly with those brown eyes at them.

Onward to the goodbye room, as I like to call it. An empty room, only possessing one chair.

I sat on that chair and waited...

and waited.

One person showed up. I saw my older brother, Golden. He looked disappointed.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

That question made my blood boil. I glared at Golden, my parent's favorite son. Golden Jr. Chase, the one every talks about when they here my name. His unkempt face that's somehow still handsome, tan skin, long blonde hair stretched to a ponytail. I look similar to him, as much as I hate to admit it. Expect my blonde hair is short and slick. Also, I'm _slightly_ smaller.

"Getting out of your shadow," I spat, standing up. "You had your time. Now it's my _turn_."

"Your _turn_? Do you any idea what you've done?" he shook his head. "You don't even go to the academy! You don't have the skill's for it!"

"I asked mom and dad to buy trainers for the past four years. I know how to throw shurikens. I know swordplay. I'm strong enough."

"Why wasn't I aware of this?"

"Didn't think you care. You were more than happy to ignore me and drink."

At that, he had the decency to wince.

"You're not mentoring for me. Mentor for that redhead Gliss," I harshly told him.

"I am going to mentor for you and-," he began before I cut him off.

"No! I don't need you. I will win this without you," my older brother was about to say something else, but I didn't give him a chance. "Did you dad and mom didn't even visit? They don't give a shit about me. Only you. _Only you!_ I _have_ to win this without you. So get the fuck out. Besides, none of your tributes _ever_ came back."

Golden looked as defeated as the day he came back from the Hunger Games. Looking at me bitterly one last time, he went out. How is the favorite of my parents?! He didn't even try to win me over that argument! He's pathetic!

It doesn't matter. After I come back, I'll have my fame and rub it in everyone's faces.

I grinned not unlike a feral animal. If everyone thought my brother was good, wait until they get a load of me.

* * *

 **Bliss Lustra - District One Female**

* * *

In my head, I pictured the Games in multiple different ways. With Patricia Lovemunch, it should be something cutesy as her character describes her. She might make a giant playground for the arena. It sound's like her to be that childish. I'll be a career for until final eight and kill everyone left is the basics of ideas for victory. Then again, I should save my prediction's, and the plan's when the game's start. Anything can change, and I shouldn't hold on to my plan's with much confidence.

The Hunger Games are unpredictable, after all.

The Reaping is going to start soon and I this year's volunteer. I worked hard, I fought hard, I bribed hard, and I got it out of my other female student's in the academy. I'll admit, it was fun beating up arrogant boy's to prove myself and outthinking some of the spoiled rich girls who thought they should be the ones volunteering, but none of them had the smarts for it. Nor the ambition.

I was ruthless. I _am_ ruthless when it comes down to what I want. One girl thought she could bribe her way to take my place. The arrogant bitch didn't expect me to find out, and I let everyone know that she's sleeping with one of the instructors. She became a laughing stock of the academy and got my revenge. It was a simple message to everyone not to fuck with me, and perhaps my ruthlessness impressed my instructors, some claiming I'm the best bet for this year's victor. Of course, I didn't let my ego get the better of me, many careers have fallen because of their hubris, and I don't intend to join them.

Perhaps, I'm not a normal girl. But I am career material, and career's don't have friends. If I wanted to be some ditzy girl who giggles and talks about boy's, I wouldn't try so hard to train to go to the Hunger Games, now would I?

Once I win the Hunger Games, and I will win. I'll go to the Victor's Village. Living life I alway's dreamed about and get my mother to stop working at the factory.

"Bliss! Bliss! Where *hic* are you? Time for the *hic* Reaping!" a drunken voice called to me. My mother was outside my door, most possible laying on the couch, enjoying her day off from the factory.

Already dressed in my red blouse and nice white jeans, I walked outside my room and saw my prediction correct. My ginger mother had to lay on the couch, staring at our cheap television, smiling numbly.

She looks much like me, with the red hair and slim form. Only I happen to be taller. Also, I like to let my hair down freely while she braids her's.

"There you are? *his* Did you eat breakfast yet?" my mother asked, mostly out of habit.

I nodded, "I made some for you as well."

"You're such *hic* a sweetheart," she commented.

Opal Lustra is a good mother, not the best in the world, but a decent person. She took responsibility and took care of me after I was born. She work's hard in the factory to pay for my tuition in the academy. She's _helpful_. Not completely neglectful. I wish I can praise her more, but I raised myself in these poor hard streets of District One, I also do the cooking around here. I fought all the gangster's who thought they could take me down, using every trick in the book expect the sexual one. I was the one who made myself a natural in hand to hand combat, swordplay, and athletics. No one else helped me.

"I'm going," I announced to Opal.

She laughed, "Bliss. I'm so proud of you. Did I ever tell you that?"

Indeed, she has. I don't think much of it. "Once or twice."

"Ok, smartass," Opal snorted, then turned thoughtful or as thoughtful as a half-drunk woman can be. "Do you think your father will be in Capitol?"

The question took me back a little, a rare occurrence. I haven't thought or asked about a father for years. Opal said he was a stout ginger peacekeeper who does his duty for his country. Well, he certainly didn't do his duty as a father as I've never even seen him before. I find it appalling that mother long's for him for whatever reason, and I have zero faith that I'll ever see him if he's even in the world of the living anymore.

"Maybe," I coldly replied, and I went outside. And to the Reaping, the moment I worked so hard on will appear.

I spotted a couple of students on the way. I smirked. Purposely going closer to them, I went to check my reputation one last time.

"You think next year I'll go volunteering," one girl asked the group.

"Nah, too scrawny," one tall blonde boy observed. "Beside's you didn't even make it a minute against the ice queen. What makes you think you'll ever get picked to go?"

"I can totally take the ice queen. She's just a huge cheater-"

"Is that right?" I interrupted behind the group. I know my reputation as an _ice queen_ , and it's as I wanted it to be. I don't need friends, and those that try to be is given the cold shoulder by me, sometimes more than that. I made sure no one knows of my history, and I certainly don't want any like-minded classmates to threaten my mother against me as I do them(sometimes and most of the time it's just a bluff).

"Oh shit!" the blonde boy yelped and turned to the girl. "You're fucked."

The girl didn't even reply, she just cussed and ran away as much her leg's can. Wise of her.

I looked at everyone in the group. "Do we have any problems?"

Everyone shook their heads.

After that, I moved passed them, smirking sadistically.

Worth it. God, it's good to have a reputation like mine. I already beat them into submission in the one on one challenges and the terrifying rumors about me(sometime's I make it up) make's them think twice before messing with me.

Well, that was fun, and to the Reaping, I go.

Onward we went, I went to the front of the eighteen-year-old line where many moved out of the way like a queen. They know who's volunteering.

Didn't wait too long for the escort to show up, and the mayor already went on with his the yearly mundane speech, he mentioned the Treaty of Treason and yadda yadda.

The capitolite in weirdly all blue came up, "Thank you, Mayor! Thank you, District One! I hope everyone here is looking forward to the Reaping!"

His voice boomed, and the result came with a cheer. District One is indeed supportive of the Hunger Games. Jewels Howard went to the girl's bowl and picked up a piece of paper, "Emery Smith."

Now it's my moment.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

I walked up to Jewels, looking confident and calculation. Looking at the crowd, I leaned closer to the microphone, "Bliss Lustra."

And many cheered my name, I wasn't overly affected by them as I looked at the crowd with my brown eyes.

"And now for the boy's!" Jewel's announced. He moved to the boy's bowl and took a name from it. "Daniel Twix."

There was waiting there. A strange occurrence. Where in the hell is Gabriel? That dumb brute should make an appearance.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

The crowd showed to a smaller boy sixteen-year-old section. A slick blonde haired boy came with a white business suit covered in drops of blood. His confident smirk angering deep inside, and came up his way next to Jewels and me.

"Silver Chase," his voice irked of cockiness. But the last name surprises me. A Chase? There was another one? I looked at the mentor's who are sitting in the back of the podium and see Golden Junior's surprised face. Guess we're not the only ones in for a surprise.

The slick-haired blonde took out his hand to me, waiting for me. I saw the blood on it and took it as if it wasn't even there. Did Silver think a little blood was going to scare me? I've seen so much worse. His cocky blue eye's show more intelligence then Gabriel ever had. Damn, he's going to be hard to manipulate.

"To the District One tributes! Bliss Lustra and Silver Chase! May the odd's ever be in their favor," Jewels boomed. I left the stage as the crowd continued to roar.

To say my goodbyes.

The door's opened and out came my mother, who was now sober and dressed nicely. The only one who gives a lick about me and the only one I'll open my heart to, no one else but her.

"My little angel," my mother praised, even though I was anything but an angel. She cupped my face, "Let me get a good look at you."

I snorted amusingly, "Is now really the time?"

"Nevermind then. Your pretty enough for some sponsors. You'll do great," She hugged me once more. The compliments were unnecessary, but it was fine. "I'm so proud of you. I hope you know that. I'm sure your father would be proud of you too."

And how do you know that? The thought was vicious, but I didn't voice it. "Thank's mom," I said instead, I gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll be back soon."

"Of course you will. You're the strongest person on Panem," she beamed. That compliment was enough for me to hug her for one last time. Not that I need any compliments, but my mother need's to be reassured.

"It's time to go," the peacemaker called out, and lead me to train that lead's to the Capital.

And to the train, I went. I saw Jewels, Golden Jr, and my new district partner Silver. The last two were glaring at each other with distaste.

I smirked. Perhaps I could use that to my advantage.

* * *

 **A/N: District One everybody! The cruel Silver Chase by _that one ace popsicle stick_ and the calculating Bliss Lustra by _District5Ravenclaw_! Both character's come's with daddy issues! I hope I did a good job on them.**

 **Once more, I must encourage readers to PM tributes to me. I would particularly like a District Two Male and a District Twelve Male. Yep, I need them. Can't make all the tribute's on my own, unfortunately. It wouldn't an SYOT if I did that. Thank you all for reading.**


	4. Chapter 2: Kind Enough

**Chapter 2: Kind Enough**

 **District Two Reaping**

* * *

 **Roxy Flint - District Two Female**

* * *

" _Freeing yourself is one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self was another_ ,"

-Toni Morrison, _Beloved_

* * *

"Now, are you two ready?"

I nodded, raising the wooden sword. My opponent across from me did the same.

"May the best win," I smiled sincerely to Enobaria(It's obvious who she's named after). She scoffed as if I insulted her in some way.

"Yeah. You too," the taller blonde gave as a reply. A sad thing was the threating edge in a voice that promised hurt. Enobaria was alway's a little cruel, but I'm sure she's just going too far because she's competitive. Best watch out for my ribs, I would hate for it to break. Snow know's that too many in this academy have broken limbs for trying to be the district's volunteer.

"Begin!" the Head Instructor of the Academy of District two announced loudly.

Enobaria didn't waste any time as she rushed me, predictably, as I already sidestepped out of her way and attempting to strike her torso. She managed to block it in time, after that she swung her sword upward's to hit my face. I wasn't going to let her. I took a quick backstep which was enough as her sword almost reached my chin by a millimeter. That was close.

I got into a defensive position, waiting for her incoming attack. She stroke viciously at me, I blocked it. Once more on the other Enobaria swung her sword, and once again I blocked. She made a move against my torso, but I overreacted, she used her free hand to punch me hard in the center of my face.

Taking a couple of step's back, I moved my hand to my nose. The feeling of blood was dripping down my nasal. I'm bleeding.

"Nice makeover," Enobaria mocked, giving out a taunting laugh. She got her sword ready.

She made me bleed. _She hurt your perfect nose,_ a rare haunting voice said in the back on my head.

No, not that. Not that. I don't need to go berserk. It was too late. My mind turned colder, and I glared at Enobaria coldly.

"Yeah. Now it's your turn. I think you'll look so much better," I declared, that pleasant voice of mine now gone. Enobaria made a swing, I blocked it and pushed her sword arm away using mine and copied her technique of using my free hand to punch her. I got her throat, and it made her take a few step's backs.

With sudden speed and strength, she didn't expect I struck hard at her stomach and used her pain in use as I swung my sword at Enobaria's chest to send her to the ground. I quickly stepped on her hand that's containing her sword, she cried in pain and let of her wooden weapon. There, I won. Wait... no, not yet. I put my body mass on Enonaria's stomach. She yelped and didn't like my dark black eye's looking at her with coldness nor my raised fists. I punched her face with my left fist, then my right fist, then my left fist, then my right fist once more.

"Roxy! You won! You're the volunteer! Stop it!" the Head Instructor ordered.

That was a week ago. The fight that decided if I was going to volunteer this year. I beat Enobaria, badly, unfortunately. I won, but I lost control of myself. Made her face black and blue. It was unnecessary. I already won. Why do I make so hard on myself? It was a competition, I don't have to worry about Enobaria's safety. It's because I'm nice. Maybe I because I'm trying too hard to be nice. I do feel bad for what I did, only not at that moment.

Enobaria and I aren't so different. We came from the same background, a wealthy one. A career family that train's their kid's since they could walk to fight to get into the Hunger Games. The difference between me, and she is my control over my emotions. My mother wanted me to be ruthless, but I wasn't like that so I would pretend to. I made a mask of ruthlessness or perhaps, my current face of kindness is my mask. The one I put on every day is the fake and the real me is a cruel mistress.

That problem, however, can be solved some other day."

No matter how much I detested how I won, my parent's celebrated. Proud that I got the position and I'll enter the games. It's a tradition of District Two, but it doesn't mean I like it. My parent's worked hard for me, and my brother Jet. I have to do it for them, so I don't disappoint them.

"Hey. Roxy?" my brother woke me out of my thoughts, I turned to my long-haired younger brother, he looked concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah, I'm fine," I lied to him and regretted it. He deserved so much better than that. I didn't need to worry him now. Not when the Reaping is minute's away.

Jet, my younger brother, walked on the within the sidewalk with so many other's. Everyone's going to the town square, as are we. Nobody in District Two should miss this.

I looked at Jet. He shared similar features as me. Both our appearances came from dad. We both have the skin of Asian heritage. A little uncommon here in District Two where people are mostly blonde. Black hair, dark eye's, and pale skin. That's how we look. For some reason, Jet decided to make his hair as long as mine, mixed with being short, some think he's a girl(I laugh a few time when he's not looking). Our hair reaches the back of our neck's for practical reasons for me. I like my hair this way, and I think I could do well with it.

"Do you think Somnus is going to volunteer with you?" Jet questions. Somnus goes to a few parties of the wealthy mom bring's us too, we hate it, he hates it, we're not by any mean's friends, but we usually get along, so having a friendly face with me would calm Jet.

With that lazy womanizer, who the hell knows? He doesn't seem to care much for it, no matter the amount of natural skill he has.

I shrugged, "Honestly, he's probably too busy with girls to ever. So, don't expect much."

"Good. I don't want Somnus to go with you in the games," he replied. Aww, he's so protective of me. That's cute, but I'm one of the few girls who could resist Somnus's charms.

I laughed, "Yeah. Definitely for the best."

Hate to kill someone I like.

"Are you thinking about going to the games in a couple of year's?" I asked Jet. He's fifteen, and he still has three more year's left to volunteer. He has time.

"Sure. I mean. Mom wants us to, and dad always encourages us to do our best. I don't see why not," he answered, and then turned to me with a grin, "Then the both of us will be victors. That sound's pretty cool."

I grinned. "It does."

We reached the town square. It was packed, with the kid's already lined up and those older than eighteen on the sides. The proud District Two has it's ballon's, and cotton candy machine's around. Yeah. Everyone looked happy and cheery around the square. Why can't the other district's be like this?

"See in later," I told Jet, giggling from the bubbly atmosphere.

"See yeah," he replied, knowing where we'll see each other next time.

The Reaping has started and the mayor did his thing. "The dark days..." and "Treaty of Treason...", it bores me. The mayor isn't known for his creativity. It took a couple of minute's, but the mayor called the escort on stage. The capitolite escort was a pretty woman with an hourglass figure, extremely greased purple hair, and a fancy blue coat with gold belts. Her name was Megara Moldy. My god, that name.

"Now. While I know tradition says I should say a name out. Who cares about that here? Come on out, girl! District Two is waiting for a victor!" Megara bluntly shouted out. Wow, I think this a first. I like her, well better than most capitolite's anyway.

"I VOLUNTEER!" I screamed as hard as I can. The crowd was cheering, and some girls patted me on the back. My pretty pink dress got some attention, and mom was right for picking it. Hopefully, I'll get some sponsors.

As soon as I walked up to her, Megara asked while bringing the microphone closer to me, "Now, what's your name's?"

"Roxy Flint. And I'm going to win this!" I said confidently to Panem. I trained, I did my best, no way I'm not coming back. The crowd cheered my name and waved at me. I waved back.

Megara smirked, "That'll do," she then looked at the crowd. "Now, where's the boy volunteer?!"

The crowd's continued, and no one answered. That was weird, but then we all heard him.

And the crowd looked around, and nobody saw any volunteer. Guess Somnus stayed with his lazy instinct.

The escort tsked, taken back a little that no one called forward. "That's a little embarrassing," she proceeded to walk to the boy's bowl that she didn't want to touch in the first place. "Somnus Marbrand," she read.

The chance's of calling our supposed volunteer is practically nonexistent. I mean, holy crap! Somnus is either extremely lucky or unlucky.

Everyone moved out of his way, and the cheering was once more gaining a rise.

"I'm here," a bored voice called on out. Once people saw his hand raised, they moved on out of his way for him to go.

It was Somnus Marbrand. Wearing a nice polo shirt and jeans. He looked like how a career should be. Tall, handsome, muscular, gorgeous blonde hair. He looked bored, however. Those grey colored eyes were uninterested with everything around him, as it alway's had. That didn't stop him from giving off that charming smile that all the girls swoon for, and a couple of girls did cheer him on.

"Somnus Marbrand," he smirked at Magara, taking her hand and kissing it. Oh yeah, he's also a giant flirt.

"Oh my," the purple-haired escort giggled, forgetting her anger a second ago. "To Roxy Flint and Somnus Marbrand! The District Two Tributes!"

Of course, after that, both of us tribute's went to the Justice Building and put in a room.

Jet came first, as expected.

"You did well out there, sis," my little brother congratulated me.

"I did," I smiled sadly.

He looked up at me, "You finally getting second's now."

Fiddlestick's, of course, he'd know. "No."

"Roxy. Come on. It's me. Your _brother_ ," he gave me a teary smile. "We still have a minute to talk about you before our parent's come."

I took a deep breath, and acknowledge that my brother is right, "I know my chances are good. I know it, mom and dad keep telling me that. It's just that I don't think I want to hurt anyone or worse I might hurt an ally if I don't keep my personality under control. I don't know. I think while I'm good, I don't think I'm the best."

"You're not," Jet paused before continues, "You're much better."

"What? But I-" I hesitated before Jet intervened to explain.

"Those personalities can do the hard work for you. You'll have the after effect's after the kill, but you'll be a single-minded killing machine with that ruthless personality. That personality won't stop or listen to begging as other career's do. You'll kill, and just that. You're smart enough. You'll make it."

I hugged my younger brother. My best friend. The one person who told about my personality. He's just the best.

I put my head on top of his head, hugging him tightly. "Don't go."

"What?"

"Don't go to the Hunger Games. Ever. Too dangerous."

"That's hypocritical."

"I know. Don't go. Promise me."

"... I promise."

I let out a breath of relief knowing that.

"And one thing," I mentioned, looking down at Jet, who raised an annoyed brow. "Make some friends."

"That one sound's tough."

Honestly, I rolled my eye's in amusement at that.

"Roxy!" my father cried.

Father was an old man(in his 50's) with short black hair with the Asian descent coming from him, he also has a scar on his nose. My mother, Hera was a stern-faced woman with a tanner complexion than us, but her red hair makes me wonder what I possible resemble from her, cause I can't place it. Both of them nicely with business suits.

"You better win the Hunger Game's Roxy. Our money on you is not to be a waste," my mother steely told me. I love her stern gaze on me. I don't. I want to get away from this controlling woman I call my mother. "You have many sponsors on the way, and remember to use your looks, Roxy. The Capitol already thinks your charming, and you'll have to make them like you, even more, when you go to the interview."

"I understand," I complied to her advice. That's great and all, but would it kill her to say something nice?

My father hugged me stiffly. He was alway's kinder than mother, he likes to encourage us(Jet and me) to do our best. A firm man who taught his children manners and social graces. He looked at me, possibly trying to stop his tear's from shedding, "You already know how proud of you I am, and I'll help you in any way I can to get you those sponsors."

I gave my dad the best smile I could muster.

"Alright, you can go now," a peacekeeper called out authoritatively.

My family left, with Jet giving me one last wave. The door closed.

The kind smile I showed to my smile faded, leaving my face stoic.

Time to get ready to kill. I'm disturbed by how quickly I accepted.

* * *

 **Somnus Marbrand - District Two Male**

* * *

Why should I be the one to go the Hunger Games?

Sound's like a pain, to be honest. I mean, sure. I'm a natural born fighter, and I got a whole bunch of other skill's careers should have. Only why should _I_ be the one to volunteer? There are other suicidal idiot's who could go to the games, those sadists or glory blind idiots. They would happily take my place, do a better service for District Two than I ever could.

I don't care for it unlike others in District Two. The one and the only reason I train is getting my parent's off my back. When I started it, I never thought I would be any good at it.

Then my honor-obsessed parent's went and signed me up to the Academy. I resented it at first, but I then I got two thing's from the academy I enjoyed doing. Blowing up some steam from beating the other students, and most importantly, the _girls_. The academy has the hottest girls in the world. Mostly because everyone knows that sponsor's support the beautiful, and I don't disagree on why.

Let's say I'm a real charmer with the ladies. I suppose if there was one thing I can agree with my parent's, it's their genetics. My face knows how to charm women, and I know how to listen and smile at what they want me to hear or do. And man! Do I have a few stories to tell!

"Somnus. What do you think about the movie?" my current girlfriend, Mya asked. She's a great example of an academy girl. Mya is very attractive. Her body was round, and her long dark hair sure makes her cute as a bonus.

We were watching a sappy romance movie that the I got bored watching an hour ago. It was cliche, unrealistic, and the acting was dreadful. I'm pretty sure I saw a cameraman in the background for a quarter of the film.

We were sitting on her couch, sitting close to one another. I was at her house, and the best part was that her parents were at work.

"I think it's my new favorite," I lied, not wanting to ruin the mood. A sultry grin formed on my face, showing off my devilish good looks.

Mya snuggled up to me, blushing a little. "This is nice."

"It is," I proclaimed, and I do like the touch of her skin on me. I leaned my lip's closer to her, she returns it. We were making out for a minute, and then I kept kissing down her neck. Moving my hand's lower, I found her zipper to her jeans. She grabbed my hands.

I raised my brow in confusion, and she said with red cheeks, "I don't know about this. It's my first time."

Oh, I see.

"Don't worry," I whispered, then kissed her in the mouth for a long time. Her doubts were gone in an instant, "Just follow my lead."

That's one story. Mya was this week's girl for me, and man was she sweet. Sometime's I skip classes in the academy to flirt with girls or to take a nap. Both sound's like a good day spent. So I'm a player, I like my life like that. Some girls knew what they were getting into, and some girls were naive enough to believe that I _love_ them. Honestly, the latter is a bit annoying. Do they not know what my status as a playboy?

That date with Mya was yesterday, and today I'm going to the Reaping. Yay. So goddam happy, like everyone else in District Two. I snorted, god these people. District Two is the Capitol's favorite district, but it's a pain's me to see the brainless sheep that can't see past the 'honor' the Capitol show's us. You know what? I don't really care. People are dumb, and kids can keep dying those pointless deaths.

"Welcome district two," the mayor begin the speech.

Yep. Already here. The lines were there. Everyone was happy as if the Reaping is a second Christmas. With District Two, I guess so. This tradition of our's seems pointless in my eyes. Most other districts weren't doing so good, and one day the capital will fall. It's been one hundred seventy-two years, sure enough, but the moment the Hunger Games make's one mistake, the districts(except two) will strike.

"Now, the treaty of treason," the mayor continued.

Being apart of a wealthy family such as mine has benefits. I have a few(very limited, but enough) to know that President Chamber's treat the outer district's the same as it's been with President Snow a hundred year back. Just saying, people get fed up. They _will_ fight the Capitol. Hopefully, not in my lifetime, but it's a conclusion I made year's ago and I stick with it.

"Welcome Megera Moldy to the stage!" the mayor finished his boring speech, and a hot purple-hair lady strolled in front of the District Two stage.

"Now. While I know tradition says I should say a name out. Who cares about that here? Come on out, girl! District Two is waiting for a victor!" Megara bluntly shouted out. Heh, wait to be disappointed when you call on the boys.

"I VOLUNTEER!" a pretty girl in an innocent pink dress called out. Right, Roxy. She's the volunteer. Damn, the pressure of family got her. Too bad, didn't get a shot at her.

She got up the stage next to Megara, revealing a bright smile to everyone, to say her name, "Roxy Flint."

You know, I'm even more glad I'm not volunteering. Roxy was alway's one of the few girls I respect, and I would genuinely feel bad for killing her. Can't say I feel bad for anyone else, however.

"Now, where's the boy volunteer?!" Megara called loudly.

The usual cheering of the district of the district was wavering by the second. Oh, no. No volunteers, whatever will this District Two will do. Yeah. I know they picked me to volunteer. Screw them. Screw my parent's. I'm facing the consequences.

It was easy to see that Megara was clearly irritated, as she stomped her way to the bowl filled with little papers of boy names. Well, now it's time for some unlucky bastard to get reaped. No volunteer this year, and let's hope the guy has a chance. He'll need it.

"Somnus Marbrand," the escort read.

It took a couple of seconds to process that. That my name, _out of everyone,_ was read out of that purple bimbo's mouth. What. The. Fuck.

Everyone was already cheering, and the boys around me were making their way for me.

I'm here," I said with disinterest, raising my hand.

It was too late, I thought. A little pissed, but finding myself caring not much. So I kill a couple of kid's. I don't care if they have to die so I can get home. Kill or be killed.

I walked forward, getting other's to pat me on the back as I go.

Once I get on stage, I noticed how hot her figure despite having that weird hairdo. May as well get some sponsors.

"Somnus Marbrand," I smirked at Magara, taking her hand and kissing it.

"Oh _my_ ," the purple-haired broad giggled at my flattery, getting her to smile was easy enough. She shook herself, getting ready to announce, "To Roxy Flint and Somnus Marbrand! The District Two Tributes!"

When I looked at the crowd, I didn't think them anything but a bother. Some ladies in front thought I was being cool and tossed some flowers at me. I didn't pick it up. Roxy, on the other hand, was waving to everyone, and I don't think she'll have any trouble with getting sponsors.

The peacekeeper's brought me and Roxy to the Justice Building.

The first person was Mya.

"I'm breaking up with you," I informed flatly.

"W-What? But I got you a bracelet, and-" Mya automatically flustered, and then cut off by me.

"Don't care. Give it anyone else. I was going to end our relationship next week."

She was still processing it, tears coming out of her eyes. "I-I, y-you. W-we."

"Pick a better boyfriend next time," the advice I give make's her furious.

She slapped me, leaving my cheek red. I snorted. Did she have to be so dramatic? What did she expect? Look's like I'll never know. I'm glad that it's not one of my ex's that's going into the games. Such as Enobaria. Oh god, that crazy chick would stab me in my sleep. Doubly glad that Roxy is my district partner.

"Hello son," my father, Rorius Marbrand, came in. He looked like me, but older and more uncaring.

"Mother. Father."

"You didn't volunteer," Rorius hissed, making it sound like a grave sin. In District Two, I suppose it is.

I shrugged, "I got in anyway. I don't see a problem."

My father gave me the stink eye, "Oh I think you do. Everyone will think you're a coward. A _baby_."

"I think you've been spending too much time with those overdramatic capitolites," I dismissed his words. "I'll explain in the interview that I was supposed to be a volunteer and that I knew that the paper the escort picked up would be mine. I'll make it. I'm smart."

"Of course you will, I spend a lot of money recently on you," my father commented.

"Recently?"

Rorius smirked, "Did you truly think that your name was called by mistake? Thought you were smart."

That, he wouldn't! No, he would. He most definitely would. I shouldn't be surprised. Rorius is obsessed enough to put me in a death game. Of all the shit he put me threw.

"Get our family some glory will you," Rorius implored arrogantly, after seeing my shocked face. "Hate for you to be such a disappointment. I made you better than that."

After that, he left. That fucking prick. I clenched my fist's in anger.

Oh, I'll win. I'll kill. Then, I'll kill you, dad.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll be the first to say that Somnus left a bad taste in my mouth. But I have to give it to _Menectric11,_ Somnus was interesting if nothing else. God, I wish he wasn't a career, but he has a fair chance to be a winner as everyone else. We'll see. Also, thanks _DefoNotAFangirl_ for the Roxy, and her weird identity issues. I hope I made the character's well. I feel like I did a bit too much.**

 **A shoutout to readers to continue submitting tributes. Like District Three Male. I need that one sometime right away.**

 **To EmberLex, 20, DefoNotAFanGirl, XC-NERD, and That one ace with a popsicle stick: Thank's guy's for both reviewing and submitting the characters. I felt that need to be said.**


	5. Chapter 4: False Heart

**Chapter 4: False Heart**

 **District Four Reaping**

* * *

 **Anet Bennet - District Four Male**

* * *

" _Of all judgments we pass in life, none is more important than the judgment we pass on ourselves,_ "

\- Nathanial Branden

* * *

 **Warning: I** **nnuendo** **Joke**

The breakfast I carried slipped out of my hand's, all those flapjack's and maple syrups were touching the dirty ground. Shit. Shit. I'm such shit, how did it slip out of my hands? My old relative needed that food. I cooked it and then proceeded to waste it in front of my grandmother's sick bed. I screwed up bad. Why do I have to be such a nervous shit?

"I'm s-sorry, grandma," I studdered an apology. She deserves better than this. Not an idiot grandson that can't even hold a dish right. And here I thought breakfast in bed would have been a great idea. Stupid, just stupid, I chastised myself. Sometimes, I wonder why anyone would ever choose me as a volunteer for this year's games.

My grandmother was on her bed, resting her fatigue, and she turned her head my way, right next to her, then looking down the to the ground at the mess I made.

"Sit down, Anet," she said, sighing. That might as well be an order. I did as she asked of me, sitting on the chair close to her bed. I don't know what I should expect next from my grandma Illia. She could - _is_ \- be kind and gentle or she could be a hard taskmaster that kept her the Head Instructor of District Four Academy all those year's ago before she was forced to retire.

She's met my grandfather at that same academy. Both of them wanted to be in the Hunger Game's, but they didn't make it for reason's they still complain about today. After Twenty, they got married, got a daughter(my mother) named Darla. Grandma became Head Instructor for a while, but she was forced to retire when she was found out by favoritism which she actively denies whenever people ask. My mother Darla tried but didn't get to be the volunteer, and she met my father Rosenfoltz also in the academy. The same with him, he wanted to be a volunteer, but couldn't get it.

My family forced me to train since I was six. They wanted me to what they tried to be all those year's ago. My grandparent's, my parent's, and everyone else wanted me to be the volunteer. I did my best. I won my fights. I got to be District's Four Volunteer. My family was so happy, happier than I ever seen them before.

My grandmother took the kind approach this time, not that she isn't kind, but I learned that she's a little manipulative with everyone she meets, "What's on your mind, Anet? It's easy for me to see something is bothering you."

"I-it's nothing," I denied telling her, not wishing to be a bother, which in turn, annoyed my grandmother.

"I'm old. Not senile," grandmother reminded me, the look Illia is giving a look that I'm not escaping this conversation. 'You won't get "You are a career, Anet. This nervous mess I look at is not the career that your father, and I had been training. Now, What is bothering you?"

Well, I tried. I know I can't fight it, and a part of me wants to talk about what I think.

"It's about the Hunger Games," I began, my grandmother nodded for me to continue, "I don't think I'm the best person for it."

The fury is visible on her, and I realized that I should have worded that better.

"You are going to those games," she said frostily. "Your grandfather and your father weren't chosen back when they were your age. You have the skills and generations of fighters in your blood. You _can't_ lose."

Nice to know my family still has confidence in me where I don't.

"T-The odd's aren't all in my favor," I cautioned, more of what I thought than anyone else here. My family seemed oblivious about the fact the District Four hasn't won in a decade and a half.

"You don't need odds, Anet," she hissed, dismissing the thought's I've dwelled on for years. "We have trained you! It took us far too long for someone from our family to get into the games! You are going to the Hunger Games! And you are going to become a victor! Do you- Ach!"

She cut herself off, getting a wide-eyed expression, and clutched her heart. Shit! Her pill's!

I rushed as swiftly as I can to get to the bathroom, making on turn outside to the living room, then another in under five seconds, when I reached the bathroom, getting the pill's out of the shelf made a mess with everything else on the shelf, but I didn't care, my grandmother needed this.

As I get the pill's, I swiftly ran back to my grandma's room. She was breathing irregularly, not a good sign. I pulled the pill's out of the container and made sure she got it in her mouth. Grandma swallowed down her medication's, slowly and surely, her lung's were going back in working order.

"Are you alright?" I asked, concerned.

"Better," Illia replied, loud breathing from her nose can be heard. "Are you going to the game's or not?"

My red-headed grandmother said that. She gave up much of her time for me so that I could become a victor. I got her red hair from her, her blue eye's, and her fair skin. Her skill's with a sword and trident.

"Promise me that you'll go, Anet. Please go," my grandmother begged me, not crying, just saddened by the fact that I don't want to go to the Hunger Games.

I don't want to go.

But, I owe everything to her, and mother and father.

"I promise."

She let out a sigh of relief.

"Grandma. I think you should go to sleep."

"Think your right. Dam these old bones," she agreed with me. "Shame, wish I could come to the Reaping tomorrow, Anet."

"Me, too."

"I can't wait until you come back a victor," she said with certainly before closing her eyes and resting on her pillow.

What have I done to deserve such a high opinion that I could survive the Hunger Games? I went out swimming in the academy pool that night, soothing my mind. My life matter's to them, my family. They want what's best for me. I didn't enjoy training all that much, but what I did enjoy was racing. A simple thing, but I enjoyed racing. I loved running down the track, challenging my parent's to race. An exercise that where we all laughed.

My family doesn't laugh very often.

"Come on, big guy! We got to go to the Reaping!" my childhood best friend, Cyrene cried out. She was waiting outside. Cyrene's nature is somewhat not near close to mine, but if we had this friendship for this long, I'm not going to question it. She's kinda my only friend.

"I'm coming. I'm coming. Wait for a second," I told her, getting my boots on.

She smirked, I could practically see it, "That's what she said."

I snorted, opening the door to get out of the house, "How mature of you."

I see my blonde, blue-eyed friend leaning next to the door.

"You just can't wait. Can you?" she joked brazenly.

While her jokes aren't appreciated, the blush on my face most possible matched my red hair. She laughed in response.

"Don't we have a Reaping to do t-to?" I said quickly.

"Avoiding the question, are we?" Cyrene teased.

I rubbed my flustered face, "Seriously stop."

She waved my word's, still snickering. You'd think at a day where twenty-four kids have to get chosen to fight each other she'd be less humorous. Nope, not her. She alway's needed a better sense of humor, then again it's like I'm the paragon of laughter, I shouldn't criticize. I don't mind it, but I could use fewer puns in my life.

Cyrene looked at my house, "So. How's the old bag doing?"

"Fine," I responded softly.

"Of course she is," she said sarcastically, seeing through my words. She then picked up a thoughtful expression. "You know, it's probably going to be a good thing that you're going to volunteer. When you win, you'll be rich as hell. Your grams would get better."

"That's..." a good idea, my thought's trailed off. Maybe going to Hunger Game's give's me a chance to do something more than fulfill accomplishment in my family's name. Did my father and mother think this too? It still depends on's if I make it or not in as a victor. Glad Cyrene told me this, it makes me feels better about myself.

Cyrene had a flat look on her face, "Hey Anet. You're doing that thing again. You know. When you go off daydreaming?"

"S-sorry," I replied, chastising myself. I shouldn't do that.

"I bet you're dreaming about around escort _Forever_ , eh," she punned. Oh god no.

"No," my boring one word answered didn't stop her from talking.

" _Anet_ so good, too," she continued, this isn't the first time she punned my name.

I brought my hand to her mouth, "Stop it."

"This is why people call you Silent Anet. I hope you that, man," she said once I let go of her mouth.

I nodded. I know that. I don't like talking to people much, since my general nervousness and lack of social skills would possibly end up bitting me in the ass at the Acadamy. I just thought it would be better to keep silent. It worked out.

We reached the town square. The line's where ready. The mentor's and escort are sitting at the end of the stage. Cyrene and I went to our line's, opposite of one another. There was a bit of wait for the mayor to start his speech. He talked about the rebellion, the treaty, and played a video that President Chamber audios. After that, he called up Forever Elbategrof.

"Hello there, District Four. It is an honor being here," a pleasant woman with a saucy voice. Her long braided hair was blue and yellow. Her shirt had a display of ton's of sea creature's, most of them are dolphins, and her pants were shiny as well as purple. She wasn't the weirdest capatolite there was, she had no strange makeup that made her look like a clown. "Now, let's get to the girl's, shall we?" she walked up to the girl's bowl, picked up a name. "Shelby Myers."

"I VOLUNTEER!" a tan Asian girl cried out. She's wearing regular jean's and blue jacket that look's good on her. She was tall, thin, long black hair, and I remember her. Her skill's with a trident is equal to my own.

She walked up to Forever, looking at everyone in the crowd fiercely with her brown eyes, "Delmara Lum! The victor of the 172nd Hunger Games."

Bold claim. She got the crowd going, so that's something.

Forever smiled, then proceeded to the boy's bowl. She picked out the boy's name, "Hobert Jobert."

"I VOLUNTEER!" I cried out, everyone making there way. I walked up to the stage next to Forever and Delmara. "Anet Bennet."

The escort clapped her hand's at her two tributes, "To the District Four volunteers! Delmare Lum and Anet Bennet!"

The crowd cheered, and I remembered something important to do. I crossed my arm's together, trying my best to look intimidating. My family says it's the best course to go with since smiling and talking isn't.

After that, I went to the Justice Hall, waiting for friend's and family.

Cyrene came first.

"You better make it Anet," she said to me, very concerned now. She was a firm believer like my family that I'll win the Hunger Games, and I suppose that's all she wanted to say.

I nodded solemnly, "I will."

She nodded back. "So... you got anything to say?"

That, I mean. "Not in particular. I alway's enjoyed, you're a good friend."

"Same. Just one thing to clear up," Cyrene has a strange expression. "You don't have any romantic feeling's for me, right?"

"No," I shook my head instantly, a little taken back. "You're a good friend-"

"-Your only one," she interjected.

"Yeah, I know that. I never thought you in a romantic sense, and I don't want to ruin our friendship over dating."

"That's fair. I mean, if we're being honest here. That Delmara chick," she whistled, "She's way prettier than you'll ever be."

I nodded in silent agreement.

Now that I think about, I never had a love life. I mean, I alway's did have a hero crush on victors of District 4. Justin Rotary, Nicole Gallon, either guy or girl were attractive in my eye's. If Finnick Odair was still alive, I wouldn't mind dating him.

The peacekeepers were coming in, and Cyrene gave me a weak smile, "Do good out there."

"You too," I mouthed.

Cyrene's time was up, next was my parents.

My honor-obsessed parents came in. My mother, Darla looked like me. While my dad, Rosenfortz, was a muscular browned hair man. Both of them, addicted to the Hunger's Games.

"Anet, son. You are going to the game's," my father said proudly, the smallest of smiles came to his face. He's an instructor back in the Academy, a stern man, one that show's tough love. "A chance that never happened with me and or mother. Feel proud for yourselves."

I can't see how. I do enjoy the praise I get from my family, but that's the only good that came out of it.

"Just remember what we talked about," my mother mentions. We don't talk as often as we used to. She does odd job's to get me to the Academy, and training equipment, I can see some bag's under her tired eyes. "Put on a good show. Join those careers. And get rid of the competition."

It's the last part that unnerves me. How to my parent's, those other tribute's life's don't matter.

"I'll try," I managed to say.

Dad glared at me, "There is no try. Only victory."

"R-right. Sorry."

"Don't do it again," he told me. He looked to my mother. "Can't you wait until he's a victor?"

"I certainly can," mom smiled. Their expectations of me are pretty high. "We'll see you on the screen son, just remember that we'll be watching."

The nod I gave was quick and sad. The peacekeeper took them later after that.

The responsibility and certainty people gave me was never something I liked. I didn't like training, the academy, being the only one to take care of grandma while she was sick. They think I'll be a victor of these games.

I don't know. Can I be?

* * *

 **Delmara Lum - District Four Female**

* * *

Competition. That's what they are.

All of them back at the academy. I learned. I fought. I went my fucking way to get rid of my friend's back four year's ago. I've done my damnest to win, to beat every girl so I could get into the Hunger Games. So I could get perfect. Victor's are perfect human being's. Victor's are famed, worshiped even. Why wouldn't I do try my hardest to become a victor?

"Del, come on. Lighten up. Today at least, your finally getting what you wanted," my twin brother, Lyno appealed. He had tan skin, combed black hair, and brown eyes. He was a tall as me which was 5'9. We were both pretty tall, and both of us looked alike. If we ever wanted to, we could switch places. I'd have to cover my breast's then.

I looked at my brother at the end of the small round table I'm in, "I am happy Lyno. It's just that I'm not looking forward to wasted as you had."

Lyno laughed wholeheartedly at my insult, "That was a one of the greatest day's of my laugh."

"You came home naked," I reminded him with a half-glare.

The only other person in the table, Genodal, spit out the beer he had and started laughing. "Are you serious?"

"Yep, that was fun," my twin smirked at the memory.

"I'm sure it was," Genodal said, smirking as well. He was a strong guy, brick-faced, short dark hair, and brown eyes. Genodal is Lyno's best friend. Both of them are party animal's, better conversationalist's than I'll ever be.

All three of us where at an expensive bar, at the outside seat's. It was nice here. I looked left, enjoying the sight of the ocean, the wave's were in such singular motion that it was tantalizing. The reflection of the moon above improved the ocean's beauty, a good place for celebrating. We came here to celebrate my victory. For my hard work, and dedication at being District Four volunteer this year. A nice little gathering.

I glared at them, "I swear to Snow if I have to carry both of you out of here. I'll kill you."

Lyno raised his hand's easily, giving me a relaxed and amused smile. "Geno and I can handle our liquor. The real question is: can you?"

"Of course I can," my voice automatically replied. I'm somewhat doubtful, but I have to make sure I drink the right amount unlike the other two.

"Then let's get this party started," my brother told us. He raised his beer mug, Genodal followed, and I was the slowest to do so. "For my wonderful sister, and future victor, Delnara Lum. Cheers!"

"Cheer's!" Genodal and I repeated. He was more enthusiastic than I was, but the celebration is appreciated. Especially if it's for me. We drank, we talked, we smiled, and it got uncomfortable real fast when Genodal opened his mouth.

"I wish you didn't go."

"Goddamit, Geno," Lyno replied, knowing how I would respond.

A look of contempt was on my face, then I looked at Genodal's direction, "What did you say?"

"I said, I wish you didn't go," Genodal repeated. He was alway's a dumb bag of bricks.

"Why not?" I hissed.

"Because..." Genodal half-slurred had a look full of thought. "You might not come back."

I was a second close to punching Genodal, a second, but Lyno cleared his throat, "She'll come back."

"How do you know?" he questioned.

"She has her skill's and her smarts," Lyno answered.

"Didn't help our previous tribute's that much," Genodal mumbled, he had tear's in eyes and he turned to me. "Please don't Del. Please don't go and die. I care too much not took talk about this."

I glared at him, "... We're not dating anymore, Geno."

"It's not about that!"

Then what is? He doesn't understand my dreams. I earned what I did to get where I am. I had to distance myself from everyone so I can improve. What am I going to do? Throw all the work I did these past years! Throw away my dream's away! My mother never gave two shit's about what would happen to me, and dad doesn't know how to talk to people or how to open up.

"I don't care what you want Genodal, exactly like how you don't care what I want," I responded with bite, "You never cared for what I want! You never understood it!"

Genodal flinched at that, knowing how stubborn I can be, he turned to my brother, "Lyno. Are you okay with this? That she's going to the Hunger Games."

Now it was Lyno turn to flinch, and looked at me with a look that he swallowed a lemon, "It's not that I'm okay with this. It's that I know Delmara. She's going to win. She can win. She knows what she's doing."

Good old Lyno alway's having my back. I'm happy to have him as my twin, my other half. If I didn't have him by my side, I would have become more of a vicious bitch than I am now.

"Fine then. Fine," Genodal whined, seeing that he'll never win anyone over, he cut his losses and went back to his beer.

Serve's my former boyfriend right. No right to tell me what I can or can not do. It was fun for a month or two, and Lyno urged me to get something to do other than train. In the end, however, I got my priorities straight and broke up with him. I have to become perfect, and Genodal was getting me far from that. I have to get perfect. My mother says I'm nothing more than a waste of space, not even worth her time. I'll show her who's a waste of time. I'll show her that I'm perfect.

"Waitress! Another beer this way!" I cried out nearby, a surprising action by the looks of Lyno and Genodal. The both of them looked at each other, frowning.

I'll show everyone that I'm perfect.

The beer came by, then came another one, and then another. The beer was so good, and I needed to relax. I wanted something for myself.

"Shit, Delmara! You alright," my twin(I think?) said to me.

I giggled drunkenly, "Of course I am, I'm perfect."

"Okay, she lost it. Geno, see you later. I'm bringing her back home," I heard him say, I shook myself trying to puzzle out why we needed to go home. It was fun here.

Lyno put his arm's around me, I tried to resist, but he didn't let me and I didn't try hard enough. He practically carried me out of the bar.

"And you thought you'd have to carry me back home," he mumbled, and my head felt fuzzy. I felt sleepy and just went with it.

That conversation happened last week. I felt quite ashamed about it that I threatened Lyno that I'd kill him if he ever told anyone.

I'll never talk about it.

Now, that Reaping has come. The day I have been waiting for years. The anticipation is killing me in the inside. When I went toward's the town square, I could see all those line's forming. I see Justin Rotary, the victor of the 157th Hunger Game's was backstage. I'll have him as a mentor soon enough. The mayor going on with that fucking speech of his. I can't be the only one who thinks it's boring. Eventually, the mayor call's on our district's escort, Forever Elbategrof.

"Hello there, District Four. It is an honor being here," Forever boomed with that girly voice of her's, "Now, let's get to the girl's, shall we?" she walked up to the girl's bowl, picked up a name. "Shelby Myers."

Nah. No Shelby this year. There's going to be me. I opened my mouth to say,

"I VOLUNTEER!"

Walking up to Forever, I glared at everyone in the crowd, preparing what I've been wanting to say for a while, "Delmara Lum! The victor of the 172nd Hunger Games."

The crowd was cheering at my self-confidence. I can't help, but feel pretty damn proud at that. My brother was supporting me in the crying mass as well.

Forever went to the boy's bowl next. She picked out the boy's name, "Hobert Jobert."

"I VOLUNTEER!" the male volunteer said to the crowd. Everyone saw a redhead with a green jacket, blue pants, and black boot's. He looks frighting to an average person. I glared at the eighteen-year-old walking forward. It was Silent Anet. His skill's with weapons were respectable, and Anet most likely trained more than I have.

"Anet Bennet," he said once he got close to Forever's microphone.

The escort clapped her hand's at her two tributes, "To the District Four volunteers! Delmare Lum and Anet Bennet!"

To the crowd, both Anet and I looked fierce, ready, confident, and something to be feared. The crowd helped a lot, making me both anxious and joyful. Hard to believe that the Capital will be more cheerful than now.

After the Reaping, I went to the Justice Building, directed by the peacekeepers.

"You better come back," my twin said to me, he hugged me the first thing he did.

I scoffed, then grinned, "Of course I will. You're talking to the next victor."

"Yeah..." he told me, drawing on that word and looked away at me. "Don't be like."

"What are you talking about?"

"Delmara," Lyno looked serious, quite out of character for me. "81.5% percent of career's die because they underestimate their opponent's and overestimate themselves. So, don't be like that. Get a good ally. Maybe your district partner."

"The fuck. Where did you get so smart on me?"

"For the record, I do well in school. If I can't beat my sister in muscle, may as well beat her in smart's as they say," he reasoned.

That last part makes no sense(no one says that), but every else did. I did alway's have those weaknesses. I'm aware of them, but if I can't be confident, I'll be weak.

"Just don't get yourself killed," he told me glumly. "It would suck if you did."

If anyone else told me that, I would've made a ton of nasty insult's at them, only Lyno can have my benefit of the doubt. "Fine. You bastard. I'll do that," I said back. Can I keep such a promise? About how he told me to be less myself in the Games. I'm not certain how.

"Other than that, you'll do great," Lyno smiled, I couldn't help but give a small smile back. He took something out of his pocket, "Here. Your Token."

My twin gave me a fishing hook. From the good day's where we didn't give a shit about the games, and went fishing.

"Thank's," my smile stayed on.

The peacekeeper's knocked on the door. Lyno nodded.

"Bye Del."

"Bye, Lyno," I waved at him when the peacekeepers came into the room to get him.

The next came my docile father and overbearing mother. My father, Lokan, was a built Asian man with short brown hair. He doesn't talk much, probably got my anti-social gene from him. My mother, Nessa, was a vain blonde woman who only wants me in the game's because she wants me to win her money. Like I'd ever let in her inside the Victor's Village when I win.

My father put his hand on my shoulder and nodded at me. I nodded back. Yeah, that's pretty much our entire relationship. He may be proud of me, who the hell knows?

"I look forward to you winning, daughter," Nessa encouraged. Not in the way family should, more in the way that she's hiding something. It unnerves me.

"I will," I promised. Not that I'll ever let this ambitious skank get to me. Nessa's ambitions were for me were never for my sake, and she'll never get into my coin purse. "I suppose that's all."

"It would be rude not to see my daughter after she left," her smile, unlike Lyno's, irked me. Both of them went after that.

She rile's me up, and I managed to calm myself. I suppose it won't matter about what my family thinks. I'll win, and I'm going to be perfect.

* * *

 **A/N: The Career District's are done. Thank you _santiago._** _ **20**_ **for the apologetic Anet and the tough gal Delmara. I'll be honest, they were harder to write than the other two districts.**

 **Sorry, District Three. I had to skip you because some 'people' didn't send a District Three Male in time. I was a little peeved at that, and hopefully, people could send some more tribute my way. COME ON! At least, five more opening. You have it if you want it. Hope my marketing skills are as great as Delmara's ego.**

 **And once more, thank's for the reviews.**

 **Ok. One more thing. Alway's wanted to do this:** _ **Who's your favorite career so far?**_


	6. Chapter 3: Ain't You Something

**Chapter 3: Ain't You Something**

 **District Three Reaping**

* * *

 **Veta Del Mina - District Three Female**

* * *

" _The soul, like the body, lives by what it feeds on,_ "

-Josiah Gilbert Holland

* * *

Using the hunting knife I had in my hand, I threw it at the bullseye. Right at the center, I couldn't help but smirk.

"Beat that bitches," I boasted to everyone around me.

Those around me in this dangerous looking alley were not all bad guys. Most of them were a bunch of dumb morphling addicts who made a particularly horrible bet. A bet with me and my talent at knife throwing, guess who's getting a hundred buck's here? Me, that's who. The other's were grumbling, the other half were high, but they should have known better than to make such an uncertain bet.

I had two of my friend's here. One of them was smirking alongside me. Plix, my beanbag wearing friend, looked at the drug addict's, "Pay up," she said greedily. Some were offering the cash they had in their pockets, while other's didn't have anything at all. Plix glared at the latter of those, "If anyone here doesn't have the coin, pay with the morphling. Veta here got that shit dead center, and you all were dumb enough to bet against her. Now own it."

Plix is a real lady, that's for sure. My mind couldn't help but sarcastically think that.

"We don't need the drug's," my other good friend, Cordin assured. He's my best friend from childhood, and we both have been through the tough times together. Especially with the earthquake. Cordin and I have had each other back's since the earth shook, the earthquake that ruined our lives, as well as many others.

"The hell we don't. Mama Plix need's some of that morph," Plix glared at him with undisguised mirth. She and Cordin didn't agree with some matters. Morphling was the main one.

Cordin didn't look happy and choose to ignore Plix. He turned the hopeless addict's. "I don't need any of that shit."

They shrugged, uncaring of him. He already informed them of his stance on the morphling. Cordin's a good guy, uptight at time's in my opinion, but a good guy.

I walked to the wall where the dartboard is, pulling out my hunting knife. The funny thing is I never went hunting. It's a memoir I had ever since dad's butcher shop got wrecked, along with so many other building's from that earthquake six year's ago. Everyone in this street got affected by that earthquake. Everyone in District Three lost something or someone. I lost my mother.

"Yo! Veta!" Plix called out. She walked toward's me, and I saw morphling in her hand. "Want some?"

Tempting. _Very tempting_. It's not as if I've never had some before, while Cordin is a good friend, Plix is the friend I know can get me to relax. I need a way to get away from the earthquake, from dad, and Plix gives me release. Drug's help, if only for a while.

I looked at Cordin, all I need to do is look in his eye's and see disapproval. Time's like these I wish I didn't bring him. _Do you want the morphling to control you like it does your dad?_ He said that to me, and it's wise for someone our age. Vita Del Mina is a slave to no one. Not to anything.

"Nah. Maybe later," I declined the offer for sweet release.

"Your loss," Plix said, smirking a little. "You sure?"

I nodded. "Positive."

One of the dealer's here looked a little peeved, his drugged mind not helping anyone. "You should take some, small one. Don't puss out."

"She doesn't need anything," Cordin got in front of the dealer, looking stern.

"There's no shame in taking part. Don't be a fuckin chicken," the dealer told me mockingly.

What is his deal? Lost too much money on his bet against me. His words shouldn't have affected me as much, but he was unbearable. Those small insults get me riled up good. I threw my knife up, catching it when it came back down. The effect was needed right now. I gazed at him angerly. "Don't fucking talk to me, loser. One more word from you, I'll take this knife, and it won't go anywhere pretty. You saw me throw. Do you want to test me?"

The dealer looked me, but his mind thankfully told him to keep his mouth shut. He went back to his little corner. Good. He's not a complete idiot. I may be small, but it doesn't mean I can't fight.

"Let's get out of here," Cordin insisted. I agreed.

Plix decided to stay. As much as I don't want her to, she can handle herself. Can't blame her for finding some peace in her life, even if it's with the undesirables.

We were walking to my house.

"Do you think bad if me?" I asked my best friend.

"Course not. Why do you ask?" Cordin asked back. His family got killed during the earthquake, so did Plix. Both of them picked a different way of life, Cordin picked to work hard in the factories, and Plix decided to live the on gambling and drinks.

If I lost my whole family, I would've most likely ended up the same as Plix.

"Just wondering. I thought you'd hate me like Plix if I took the morph," I mentioned.

Cordin shook his head. "I don't hate Plix, Veta. It's just..." he stopped talking, thinking carefully. "I wish she didn't have to do all the stuff she does. And sure, sometime's you join her, but at least you work. You help Flynn and your dad. And thank God you didn't end up like him."

"What's that suppose to mean?" I snarled, not very in the mood in talking about my family or _him_.

"Your mom would be proud. Glad you're more like her," he told me.

"Shut it," I said quietly. In truth, however, it was a good compliment.

My best friend did so. Some part of him is jealous that I still have a family, and him still trying to cheer me up is what make's him a good friend. I do my best, I work in the factories with Cordin, trying my best despite my young age to get the money needed for my little brother.

"Vita!"

I saw Flynn waving at me. He has brown hair as I do, only mine is wavy. His similar brown eye's look joyous, even if his face doesn't show any happiness. He doesn't smile often. Not since the earthquake.

"Hey kid," I said, causing him to snort.

"Your only two year's older," Flynn pointed out.

"And proud of it. Also, don't talk about to your loving sister."

"Alright then, loving sister. I supposed no dinner for you this evening."

The both of us laughed, well, I laughed, Cordin joined in, and Flynn chuckled. Cordin said he'd go back his apartment, getting some rest and proceed to get ready to work in the factories like always. The daily quota for mostly everyone in District Three. We waved bye and went to our home.

"Dad's back," Flynn informed. My brother and I saw our sad excuse of a father lying on the kitchen counter. He was crying, and he had morphling in his hand's. This is the reason I didn't take any drug's today. Why would I ever want to be like him?

"Sarah? Is that you?" dad asked, almost every other day he does this, he sounds annoyingly happy when he does ask. At first, I used to envy him, year's ago. Now, I can't help but feel pity. He used to be joyous, radiant of life with his wife, two kid's, and his butcher shop. Now he's throwing whatever life he was away for that dam morph.

"No, dad. It's Vita and Flynn. Your's kids. Mom's died, dumbass," I said depressingly.

"NO!"

My father had his brief moment of anger as if trying to charge at me, but he only fell to the ground from the table. He broke out a lot of tears from his eye's, keeping on saying mom's name.

I looked a Flynn. "You got dinner.'

He nodded, completely ignoring our wreak of a father. "Anchovies, french fries, and meatloaf."

"Good. I'm hungry from work," I remarked.

He went to the kitchen. I went toward's the couch, turning on our TV. If there's one thing District Three has, it's TV. It would be better anywhere else, but Panem. Is it too much to ask for less capitolite propaganda and Hunger Games news? At least dinner was decent that day, as long as one ignored my father's sobbing, which Flynn and I have a long time experience by now.

"Might welcome, District Three!" the golden glasses wearing escort shouted enthusiastically, his smile possible could've lightened up anyone's day. You know, as long as it wasn't the Reaping day.

I was, however, the Reaping Day, and no one was glad to be in the Town Square. The sun didn't even show up to shine, being covered from above with moody grey clouds. It's as if some god wanted to make this scene as depressing as possible.

The escort coughed, "Right then. Maybe I should introduce myself. Call me Riggie Vulcan. I'm here to take you to an alien planet," the escort proceeded on giggling. I glared at the capitolite on the platform in front of all the rows of children. How can someone act so childish at such a time? His outfit could also be considered childlike. He has a business suit on, colored in a shiny gold plating that matches his glasses, the weird part of it is that he has shoulder pads. "On to the girl's bowl. Wish luck to the lucky mechy here."

I hate him so much, and it's only in half a minute. I pity the girl going with him to the games.

"Veta Del Mina."

...

...

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," I mumbled angerly the moment the initial shock went. What are the odds?!

My fist's clenched, my teeth were grinding, and I walked. Walked to the stupid golden glasses wearing fucktard with that silly grin. Riggie didn't look the slightest bit affected by my nasty glower.

"A feisty one. And no crying this time around. District Three might stand a chance," Riggie compliments offhandedly, "Now, to the boy's bowl!"

The escort picked out the name, "Dorian Fleece."

A skinny boy from the fifteen-year-old line came strolling. He's most likely an orphan like the other six year's. He had yellowish brown hair, a hook nose, and blue eyes that seem far too calm. Dorian offered a hand, I took his hand and shook it. He then said, "May Vailsha keep you alive."

Wot?

"TO DISTRICT THREE: VETA DEL MINA AND DORIAN FLEECE!" Riggie screamed out. He managed to get a few claps from the crowd, something that rarely happens. Wonder if it help's anyone.

To the Justice Building, I went.

There was a nice comfy chair in the room the peacekeeper's brought me in. I needed to sit badly.

"This doesn't look too great Vita," my good friend Plix started with that sobering note.

"Yeah," I agreed.

My other good friend Cordin didn't. "You have a chance, Vita. Better than most out there. You know I wouldn't say it if I don't mean it."

"Wow. All optimistic all of a sudden, Cordin. Maybe give her real advice. Like, get knives first. You're good at those," Plix said naturally.

"You're the last person for any good advice," Cordin snarled, both of my friends were distancing from one another.

"Fuck you too."

"Are you guy's fucking kidding me!? Now!" I yelled at them. Both looked a bit ashamed.

"Sorry Vi-" Cordin wanted to say something before I interjected.

"No," I said. "You guys are all I have left. I'm going to give it my all in the games. I'm not going down without a fight. And in the chance I do die, you two have to step up and take care Flynn for me," I looked them in the eyes. "I can't promise I'll make it out alive, but you guy's can promise to care for each other and Flynn. Now can you promise me?"

Cordin looked extremely disheartened. Plix was keeping her cool and trying not to cry.

"I promise."

"Same as Cordin. I promise."

"I'll hold you now to that," I told them, giving them a tight hug, they returned it. I'm relieved, a little that is.

We all kept tight smiles on before they called Plix and Cordin back. Then Flynn came in.

He kept his face with emotion. It would've been impressive if his eyes didn't look watery.

I moved my arm's around him, giving him a hug.

"I hope you make it," he whispered hopefully.

"Me too," I replied.

We kept on hugging and hugging.

I realized dad suddenly that dad wasn't coming, probably high.

I can help a lot of people if I win, my dad included.

I can win.

All of Panem will see me win this game.

* * *

 **Dorian Fleece - District Three Male**

* * *

"My Goddess. Sweet Vailsha. Have mercy on the ignorant. Those who mock you have yet to see your greatness. Spare them once they reach the afterlife," I begged in front of the statue.

Vailsia didn't say anything back. However, I felt the wind in the orphanage attic started to blow out the window. It's not about word's, as many foolish people would want when they dam God or Snow. It's about faith. Faith in a God. In a world such as this, why wouldn't anyone pray to Vailsia? She is kind. She is hopeful. Wonderful, even.

She helped me in my time of need. Hail Vail. _Hail Vail_. As she is all-seeing.

I used to have a family. Father died in the earthquake. My mother and brother, Philip, were both shot to death by peacekeepers for conducting a pantry raid to get food. I can't remember much about my family before they all died. That was a while ago. I don't put much thought into it. I am not the only orphan here in District Three. There are those more unfortunate than me.

It pain's to see many still suffering from the past. If only other's would accept Vailshanism as their religion. Vailsha would bring peace to many, but she is a creature of hope and acceptance.

Looking up to the statue I was beseeching, a perfect sculpture. An angel, one with four wings, and a peaceful serene face looking down at me as if passing judgment.

"Brother Dorian. Are you still praying?" a familiar female voice called down below the attic of the orphanage.

"I am indeed," I answered. I don't very much like spending time the other unbeliever's who mock me.

"The Headmistress is calling everyone in reaping age to join her," a thin black-haired pre-teen walked up the ladder to the attic, it was Kamiri, one fellow believer of Vailsha. "She's taking out the whip. God, she's a bitch."

"Kimiri! I would rather no one curse in front of our Goddess's statue!" I reprimanded. That's a rule I made up, but I'm sure it's what Vailsha would want. She should be respected.

"Right. Right," Kimiri said impatiently. "Seriously, she's going to take the whip. We have to go now."

I grimaced but conceited to her logic. "Very well."

After my family's unfortunate end, I got sent to a community home. It's not the best place in Panem. It isn't indeed. I got food and shelter here, but the treatment is horrendous. The stern headmistress uses an actual _whip_ which work's quite effectively. I hate her even if I do comply with everything she say's since I don't have any other choice.

An orphan's life is a tough one.

Walking outside the orphanage, I saw all the other kid's wandering. They are miserable here just as I am, and being in an age where you can be reaped make's it impossible to light a smile.

"It's the priest," one orphan boy said to the other, both of them snorted. "Guess he's gonna go on about that angel crap again."

I heard that. "Don't mock my Goddess heathen!"

"Whatever," the orphan boy rolled his eyes. "Just don't piss yourself if the escort calls you up."

That was a frightening thing to say. If I ever go up on that platform, I'll have to accept it since my goddess must have a plan for me of some kind in the Hunger Games. However much I doubt my name being picked out.

Kimiri was next to me. "Don't worry about them. Their just a bunch of idiot's."

"I know," I said softly. Vailsha watch over me, please.

"Let's go you bunch of street rats! The Reaping wait's for no one!" The ugly stern headmistress barked at everyone.

I hope her next life will be a miserable one. I'm positive Vailsha will choose wisely, preferably where she's the one getting whipped for once.

She brought all of the orphans to the reaping. Sadness surround's this District. No one from District Three has won for so long, and we've gone to simple acceptance that whoever is going to get called up will pretty much die.

The mayor was up. He was old, and he was lazily reciting the same thing he says every year. It's a miracle I didn't produce a yawn.

Next up was he escort, a strange one like the rest. I mean, he's shiny and what is the purpose of those shoulder pads?

The escort coughed, "Right then. Maybe I should introduce myself. Call me Riggie Vulcan. I'm here to take you to an alien planet," he joked, trying and failing to lighten up the mood. How could the keep on smiling? "On to the girl's bowl. Wish luck to the lucky mechy here."

He called up a girl named Vita Del Mina. A girl with this fierce expression in her face, already proving that she's braver than her previous predecessors. She came from the sixteen-year-old section yet she looks younger, maybe cuter if she lost that snarl of her face. Her brown eye's certainly hold's confidence(forced, but it's still impressive), no doubt sharing some pain from the earthquake.

Riggie moved on the boy's bowl, saying the fated boy's name. "Dorian Fleece."

It's hard not to feel shocked by that. I suppose that mean's Vailsha has picked my fate.

I accept. Walking forward to the platform, I looked at everyone around me. The stare's I got back were one filled with pity as if they already think me a goner. I can't help but feel that's true.

I see my new District Partner, and she did her best to make me feel uncomfortable with her glare. She certainly wants to survive. There's only one thing to say to her. I offered her to shack my hands, she did so, and I said to her, "May Vailsha keep you alive."

Vita blinked with humorous confusion. Hopefully, this unbeliever will take care of herself.

Riggie was in front of us, looking at the crowd. "TO DISTRICT THREE TRIBUTES: VETA DEL MINA AND DORIAN FLEECE!"

What a horrible thing to yell about with so much excitement, does he not see how terrible it is?

Once that was done the next few minutes. I went to the Justice Building.

Kimiri, the one person who cares about me arrived. She looked saddened by me, but no tears. I wasn't expecting any.

"So, you know you're most likely going to die, right?" she questioned.

"I'm well aware," I answered, then looked at her pleadingly. "Do you think you can continue to spread Vailsha's good name?"

Kimiri snorted softly, "Is that all that goes on in your head?"

"Of course. I'm a priest."

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "I guess you are. I guess you're not very afraid of death."

"Nope," I smiled a little. "Once I die, I'll get another life. I am positive that Vailsha will grant me a good one."

"I'm sure she will. Bye, Brother Dorian."

"Have a good day, Sister Kamiri. Spread Vailsha's light, and ignore those ignorant to listen. That's all I can give."

Kamiri nodded and went away the one person who's life I helped using Vailsha's name.

Wonder if it's not too late to help those in the Capital? Never tried to convert a Capitolite.

* * *

 **A/N: To the first Non-Career District! District Three! A quarter of the District's done! Thank you _XC-NERD_ for the resilient Vita Del Mina and _District5Ravenclaw_ (once more) for the weird fanatic Dorian Fleece! Looking forward to writing them later! Not sure how I'll make use of Dorian's weird-ass religion, but I'll make it work for everyone's amusement.**

 **Oh, and guess who broke an arm. This guy! (Pointing at myself). One main reason I couldn't have done this chapter quicker. That's not what's important, however. Let's move on.**

 **Another annoying shout out to the readers. District 8 and 9 Male are still empty. Two more positions for anyone interested. Come on. It will be fine, I swear. And if anyone's interested, they could also submit an escort to me. That's something I'd like to try.**

 **To the reviewers Radio Free Hand, Anon, and District5Ravenclaw: You guys are correct. I should work on my writing better, but keep in mind that I'm not Stephen King. I'll try my best though. Starting now. ;)**


	7. Chapter 5: Self Motivation

**Chapter 5: Self Motivation**

 **District Five Reaping**

* * *

 **Zyra Koore - District Five Female**

* * *

" _Live each second without hesitation_ ,"

\- Elton John

* * *

Great. Just great. It's the motherfucking Hunger Game's taking two kid's from my district to a game of death. I feel so, _so_ honored. My god, those Capitolite's are screwing with us at this point. I mean, it's been a hundred and seventy-two years. I don't even remember what the rebellion was about in the first place. They need a better hobby for themselves.

I mean, sure? I see the point in these horrendous game's President Chambers want's us to go along. Power, obedience, examples, and other convoluted crap that matches the oppression of all twelve districts. Snow dam him, why does Panem have to be such a shit hole of a nation?

Who in their right mind(not counting the career districts) would want this sort of life? One where children die for the sake of entertainment. I can't help but sigh. A seventeen-year-old girl can't do much, or sadly anything I suppose. Not as if I can voice any grievances against the government, I don't plan on meeting the end of Chamber's peacekeeper's guns.

I hate the Reaping. More than that, I hate realizing how powerless I am to stop it. Wish I was more like Kara in day's like the Reaping, so carefree and stupid, not truly understanding how horrible the games are.

That's not alway's on my mind. I got better thing's to do such as annoying my sister.

"Raya. Wakie Wakie~," I shook my twin sister. She began to grumble.

Her grumbling continued the faster I moved her. "Stop doing that."

"No," I said urgently. "Get up. It's Reaping Day, and I want to train."

"Ahhhh!" Raya cried out from hearing that, stretching her arm's out in her PJs. She turned to me with her tired glare, "I hate you. What's the time even?"

"Four in the morning," I answered.

She played her head back to her pillow, covering herself with her pink blanket. "I hate _so_ much. We have more time than that."

"Yeah," I agreed with my twin. "But I want to do something because I deserve something today, and training sound's just about right."

Raya didn't say anything for a few minutes. "... I'll be in the basement in a few minutes."

I walked out of her room and step by step going through the hallway, trying my best to ignore Raya's honor student diploma that my parents keep bragging about, and made my way to the basement.

At times, I feel undeserved that I was born in a decently wealthy family. Half of District Five can't say the same. I mean I got a big house, mom and dad have a job _not_ being a goddam factory, and the point we can afford illegal weapon's for training.

 _Illegal training_ , I thought with a smirk. I bet Chamber's would love that. When I train, I feel like I'm kicking the Capitol in the nose. My parents were paranoid folk, very scared of the Hunger Games for whatever reason. So they thought it would be a good idea to train their daughter's secretly when they were five. Not complaining(now, anyway), it's a good exercise, and I certainly don't have anything better to do.

I saw my twin entering from the stairs. It was like looking in a mirror. Raya and I were identical twin sister's, she has my brown hair that fall's in a wavelike pattern, and I have her blue eyes. The only difference between us is that she's wearing a pink shirt and I'm wearing a blue shirt.

Raya walked up to the large guitar case on the end of the basement. Inside of it wasn't an instrument, however. There were practice weapon's inside the case, containing spear's, swords and knives. Sometime's I think mom and dad overdo their paranoia a little.

My sister passed me a sword. "You ready?" she asked with a slight grin.

"Is Chamber's a fucktard? Yeah, I'm ready," I replied, my jape making Raya look more alive.

Raya decided to fight with a spear, not the best weapon for me, but she does her. Once she got prepared, I struck. Swinging my sword, she easily blocked it and pushed it away. Raya made a sudden thrust with the spear to my stomach, which resulted in me yelping and landing on the ground. Not even a minute and I'm flat on my back. Fighting doesn't usually take that long, but we make it work. This fight was quick, and it was a point to Raya.

"You alright sis?" Raya questioned with a concerned tone. I stared intensely at her for a second at my better twin. The smarter, stronger sister who my parent's favor. She can fit those all those algebra equations in that head of her's and her grades is what my parent's talk about to their friends.

Does that make me bitter? A little, I admit. But Raya earned being our parent's favorite, and I'm also proud of her. So there's that.

"I am. Now I'm going to get that payback," I promised.

Raya chuckled, relieved seeing I'm not too hurt. "Whatever you say."

Every hit landed on her was a point to me and vice versa. We both got a few bruises, but it's nothing new. Raya got 42 points on me, and I got 20 points. I get win's a good third of the time at least. Not sure how it is for another sibling's out there, but fighting each other was pretty much what we call bonding.

"Hey Koore twin's, guess who's here?" an annoying voice came behind the door. I already knew who it was.

"Is it those two idiot's who owe me money over the broken school equipment?" I asked half-rhetorical, half-serious.

The door open, I saw a blonde girl my age pouting. "How did you know?"

An ebony skinned boy with curly hair followed after, he looked at the blonde, "You do know that Zyra called you an idiot, right?"

"She calls everyone that," the blonde retorted.

"Not everyone," I denied. "And to answer your question: who else would come here? I mean, honestly."

"Ignoring my smartass of a sister. I suppose it's my job for a good morning introduction," Raya assumed. "Good morning, Kara," she said to the dumb blonde one. "Good morning Jacen," she said to the slightly smarter boy.

"Good morning gorgeous," Jacen complimented my sister. While I don't know why he likes to flirt with my sister, I guess better her than me. I'm not looking for any dates or Jacin in particular.

Kara shook her head in agreement. "Poor Raya. Being hounded by Jacen."

"Not really," my twin replied. "Jacen just deluded himself a little. He'll get better."

"Come on. Who doesn't want this handsome face?" Jacen said brazenly, making his hand circle around his face.

All the girls looked at each other, and replied in sync, "Everyone."

We all laughed sans Jacin who looked a little depressed.

"Haha. Reaping starting in half an hour, hope your ready. Cause this may be the last chance you'll kiss me," he jested.

"Not even if you were the last man alive Jac," Kara join the joke. Making both of them laugh, Raya joined in. Not me, I find the Hunger Games nothing to joke about, even if it is to lighten up the mood. Those two don't get it.

Afterward, I and everyone else got out of the basement. All of us were joking, making small talk, Kyra was mentioning her plan to prank the football team, Jacin was asking for our expert opinion's on how to pick up cheerleaders(not helpful at all in that regard), Raya and I made twin jokes, it was a way to have fun before the Reaping. With friend's like these, it's hard not to be sassy.

To me, and everyone else in District Five honestly, being in the Reaping is the worst. For obvious reasons.

The mayor did his little speech, he presented everyone in front of him that video with Chamber's doing audio. I took a long five minutes, but he called out someone named Hercules Somethingsomeone. A buff capitolite in that dumb looking zigzag outfit. He was also rather stern looking. He looked more like a peacekeeper than an escort honestly.

I don't know who's the girl Herc is going to pick out, but it better not be my sister. Or me.

"Zyra Koore," the capitolite announced with his deep voice.

Well, shit.

At least it wasn't Raya. Oh shit! Raya!

I looked next to me. My twin is far more shocked than I was when my name was called out. Raya was slowly beginning to realize something, something that scare's me far more than going to the Hunger Games.

Raya took her hand in the air, "I volun-"

I put my hand over her mouth, making sure she doesn't make such a stupid decision, I tossed her to the ground. I ran toward's the podium, wanting to be next Capitolite to say, "Get moving already! It's the boy's turn."

Hercules merely raised a brow but complied with doing his job rather than asking what that was about. I saw that Kara was holding down Raya, who had tear's running down her eyes, and I mentally thanked Kara for keeping my sister safe.

The capitolite was about to read the name before he was interrupted my words thought insane in District Five.

"I VOLUNTEER FOR TRIBUTE!"

A black haired fifteen-year-old with broad shoulder's yelled out, and everyone around he stepped out of his way. He walked toward's Hercules, looking more confident than he has any right to be. "Volt Nightingale! District Five's next Victor!" the kid shouted. His last name is familiar, but I can't seem to place it.

He walked to give me a handshake, "Hope you make it far."

"And I hope you have time being a career," I blurted out. Shit, I wasn't thinking. My mouth just opened. Everything is stressing me out in this last minute! And Volt didn't like that comment one bit by the way his eyes are narrowing at me. Hey, he volunteered for no good reason, he's the crazy one.

"To the tributes of District Five: Zyra Koore and Volt Nightingale!" Hercules announced to the crowd.

I can't believe I got picked. Out of thousands, it's as if someone has it out for me or something. I was pushed by those white armored peacekeepers all the way the Justice Building. And surprise, everyone came to see me.

"What's going to happen now?" Kara, sweet little dumb Kara, wondered.

"She's going to have to win. That's what. She has to," Jacen insisted. No more jokes were coming out of his mouth, and that was definitely a sign right there.

"But how?" Kara kept wondering sadly.

"I have a chance. A good one remembers everyone," I reminded everyone in the room, mostly my sister who was being silent next to the door.

"Yeah! You'll make it! You got the headbutting skills of the master. I still got those bruises in my head," Kara said happily. Her hopes were lifted easily, not sure if I should reprimand her for her naivety or not.

Jacin, on the other hand, noticed my silent sister. "Okay then, good luck out there Zyra. Kara, we have to go."

The both of them left, appearing saddened. Leaving me and my twin.

"... You're mad?" I asked hesitantly.

"Of course I am," Raya barked. More emotion than I ever seen from her, "I'm mad. I'm sad. I'm... I don't even know. I could've gone-"

"And you could have gone on and died too!" I interjected. "It's my game now Raya. Just because you're better than me doesn't me you still have greater odds here."

"Better? I mean, I alway's suspected..." she mumbled.

"If you were going, I'm sure mom and dad would miss you more," I said bitterly, no time like the present.

Raya didn't know what to say to that. She proceeded by hugging me. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about. It's all mom and dad. Even now they're too busy for me. For us."

That only made her hug me tighter. "You'll be safe. If mom and dad did one thing right, it's training the both of us. Training _you_ in case this happen's."

Yeah. One thing.

"I'll try my best."

That was the best I can offer her. I hope I won't become a monster when I enter the arena. I don't want to kill, but I have to.

I don't have any other choice. It's for survival.

* * *

 **Volt Nightingale - District Five Male**

* * *

I used to be poor, my whole family was.

There's not a lot of people can change about that. Most go to school, and in the end will find it useless because most of us miserable little worm's are going to end up as factory workers, making batteries or working on that dam that power's up to the Capitol and all its basic needs.

For a chance at a better live sound's almost impossible, a dream even. My entire family had to rely on stealing for survival. I was quick enough, so my sister Emmaline. I look up to my older sister. Hard not to, she was there for me when our parents did their low paying jobs. She taught me how to be quick, how to steal. The life I had wasn't perfect, but at least I had someone that I care about, and someone who care's in return.

That's why I was very heartbroken when Emmaline got reaped five years ago. I thought I she wouldn't make it. I thought I wouldn't see her again. I never cried so much in my life. All I could do was hope since that was all I could for her.

And Emmaline came back. She became a Victor.

Five years ago. The 167th Games. My once poverty-stricken family are now living the life. We live in the Victor Village now. My family doesn't even have to work anymore since the Capitol is providing our income. No more stealing.

"She won all right," I said, scowling. I held a screwdriver in my right, and I used said screwdriver to fix the funny looking box on my left hand. "Now it's my turn for it."

Once my sister came back, my parents, Sophie and Binar were practically smothering her, even today. Never about me. It's as if they forgot about me. Their blatant favoritism does piss me off quite a lot. They praise her, mostly all they do is laze around the mansion their daughter got them. Emma changed when she got back. She's distant, she only talks when she has to and has developed an extreme phobia for insects. I asked her once about what happened in her games, and she slapped me to the ground, gone all banshee. I never asked again, and it's been smooth sailing.

Being Emmaline Nightingale sister means I get better treatment from other kid's in my school. It was annoying, for people to ask questions about my sister first thing.

That's when I decided to go to the Hunger Games.

Then everyone will know the name, Volt Nightingale.

I finished screw driving the object in my hand, grinning with pride when I aimed the gun-shaped object to the wooden board on the other side of the room. Hot red flames were formed out of the gun I made, completely disintegrating the wooden board.

I build stuff like taser's, flamethrowers, Molotov, anything that could be made in any arena. After all, if I can't train in time, I may as well train my brain. Emmaline won the game when she was fifteen year's old. I have a good chance of winning.

Don't get wrong, I know the games won't be easy, but I need to make a name for myself. To get out of my sister's shadow, to get my parent's notice. For District Five's respect. It sound's worth it, at least to me it does.

Once I put my dusty apron off, I looked at the clock, seeing that it is almost time to go. The Reaping waste's time for no one.

I like to call the room I'm currently in my testing room. The wall around me look shredded and burned. I guess this room also helps release some creative art of mine.

When I got out of the mansion, I saw mom and dad drinking some vodka in the kitchen. They ignored me entirely when I passed them. Once I win, they'll sing praises. I'll make them.

The way to the Reaping was a bit lonely. I didn't have many friends as I mostly kept to myself.

A taller boy then shoved me in the shoulder. He didn't have a nice look on his face. "Watch where you're going, you little asswipe," the taller boy cussed.

"How about you watch it?" I said back.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me."

The taller guy was about to grab my shirt, but I surprised him by punching the asshole dead in the nose. Stunning him, and hopefully making him fearful of me.

"You know. I'm not sure if the peacekeepers would want to hear someone starting trouble with Emmaline Nightingale's brother. Shit, messing with a Victor's sibling might end you in what? Five, maybe ten years jail time," I said warningly, and now I'm starting to see the fear in the boy's eyes. "Get the fuck out."

The older punk did so, not wanting to test what I could supposedly do. While I hate using my sister's name, it has some advantages.

The rest of the trip to the town square was uneventful. Everyone from the right age was there, the air was tense, and it appeared that the only one who wants to be here is me.

I saw Emmaline at the end of the podium, sitting next to the escort. Who after a long repeated speech, the mayor called forward, "Citizens! Welcome the Capitol's escort for our humble districts, Hercules Thorin!"

The man in a green suit full of wiggly lines got out front of us. "The Hunger Game's must take place. Starting with the girl's," Hercules told professionally, he then picked out the girl's name, "Zyra Koore."

A second of silence, when I looked at the girl's side, I see a brunette pushing down another identical brunette to the ground. I suppose their twin's? The girl ran toward's Hercules and shouted to get a move on to the boy's turn. A strange reaction, but I agree wholeheartedly.

In all honesty, I was far too impatient at the moment.

"I VOLUNTEER FOR TRIBUTE!" I cried out.

Some boy's around me were surprised by my declaration, and they got away from me quickly. They're acting like I'm a plague or something.

I walked to Hercules, who looked a bit pleased about what I did. I told the crowd my name, "Volt Nightingale! District Five's next Victor!"

At the very least, I got some cheers. I also got to see my sister's face, she looked livid. Good, hope's she's angry.

I walked up to Zyra to give her the old traditional district partner handshake, "Hope you make it far."

"And I hope you have time being a career," she replied with sudden anger. What's that suppose to mean? I can't believe I'm being compared to the careers already. It hasn't even been a minute.

"To the tributes of District Five: Zyra Koore and Volt Nightingale!" the green-suited escort screamed out.

When the peacekeepers began to take me in the justice building, I sent one smug look at my sister. Who knows? She might visit. God knows that my parents won't.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Emmaline outright yelled at me, making me wince. "YOU FUCKING IDIOT! YOU ABSOLUTE WASTE OF A LEFTOVER BATTERIES! FUCKING SNOW!"

She's taking this a lot worse than I thought.

"I- well. You never, I mean-"

"Shut up," she snapped. She closed her eye lid's and began to calm herself in a meditative state. When she opened her eye's, she didn't look angry, more defeated than anything else.

Her sudden whiplash of emotion's made me uncomfortable, and I was growing doubtful of everything I have done in the past few minutes. "Attention. Glory," I answered, almost whispered it.

"Glory?" she repeated, mocking me. "What glory? In killing people."

Ok, I'm starting to see the career thing Zyra mentioned.

I shook my head. "For the attention. I want to prove myself."

"By doing this?"

"No one else seemed to care any other way," I stated.

The peacekeeper's said my sister's time was up. That didn't matter, I know she's going to mentor me. And once this start's, me and her are going to have a nice overdue conversation about why she has been avoiding me. Also, survival tips, that'll come secondary. Maybe after I stop hearing my sister cry from behind those doors.

I am not a career.

I'm just a guy trying to prove himself.

It's far too late not to.

* * *

 **A/N: HA! Thank you _Emberlex_ and _LKiraApple_ for the sassy Zyra Koore and the mildly aggressive Volt Nightingale! They're pretty interesting. Gotto say these family abandonment issues are far more popular or common than I'd like to be. For the most part, I like the fact that both of them are battle ready for the games. :'0 Poor kid's, they might stand a chance. What I love more is that they are destined to hate each other, since Volt and Zyra specifically hate each other personalities. The idea's that come to mind.**

 **Anyhow, I must say happily that there is only one tribute position available for _District 8 Male_. Get it while it's hot. And thank you for reading folks.**


	8. Chapter 6: What Once Was

**Chapter 6: What Once Was**

 **District Six Reaping**

* * *

 **Jaeden Rota - District Six Male**

* * *

 _"Life move's on and so should we,"_

\- Spencer Johnson

* * *

Family. That's what a child revolves around. A mother, a father, perhaps a sibling or three. Having the perfect family is what make's life bearable. It's what make's Panem into less of a shithole than it is. The idea of someone you love by blood alone can help ease a person. That is what the definition of family means. It's what I believed in for most of my life.

There is only so much time for a kid to stay naive. I love my family, and I can not hate my blood. For so long, I thought we were the ideal family. One that support's one another, that we understood one another.

It's human nature to be disappointed I suppose.

"Jaeden. Stop slouching, that's improper," my mother's stern voice ordered me. She was a thin woman, with undeserved wrinkles on her face but that has nothing to do with age. She has brown hair like most of my family, but she crops her hair into shoulder length. My mother is also a liar.

I straightened myself if only to get my mother off my back.

"Now, I want everyone dressed nicely as possible for the Reaping," my mother decided seemly, she looked at the dinner table where my family and I were eating breakfast. She turned to her husband, almost aggressively narrowing his eye's at him. "Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"Yes, it is Ruby," dad said in a civil-like manner, flinching at her tone. He's tall and has a big gut from all those years drinking. He went on to take a quick spoon of cereal and turned to the rest of us. "Kid's, listen to your mother. She has the right of it. The Capitol wants everyone to look there best in this day, and dressing with our usual work outfits won't do."

"I don't think we do," my older sister Sarai disagreed, "We don't have to dress up for an _execution_."

"That doesn't matter," Mom said instantly, not affected like the rest of the table when Sarai said that. "Looking nice is a requirement, it gives an impression at a rare chance, and Snow forbids if any of you get reaped that you'll all appear as if you didn't fall from the dumpster. There is a reason for this Sarai."

My oldest sister clenches her teeth, also not willing to start an argument like me, "Fine."

"HA!" Kaylin, my other older sister. Unlike the rest of the family, she isn't tall or a brunette, she was blonde from my grandmother's genes. She also isn't the nicest person. "What's there to complain about, stop acting like Jaeden and wear a blouse, Sara. It won't kill you."

"Not like you would understand," the oldest of the Rota children insisted, having an attentive glare at her.

Sarai has these moments where she disagrees with the Hunger Games. Not that it's a bad thing, but the Hunger Games is a part of life, why fight it? What can some decent workshop owner's and their kid's do about it?

All Kaylin did was snort. "Whatever," she noticed our dad leaving from the dinner table. "Dad, you forgot your car keys."

"Ah. Sorry," dad apologies. He went back and picked up his car keys, going to his workshop.

I sighed. "Dad, you forgot your wallet."

Arthur went back, scratching his head and got that. "Right. Thank's Jaeden."

I didn't look at him, I just went back to my meal.

"Have a good day, Ruby," dad mentions.

"You too, Arthur," mom said back.

Civil. That's how is it. Mom's a liar, pretending that we don't know about her cancer. Dad, well, he's a cheater. He cheated on mom, he cheated on a perfect family and made that image garbage. Both of them don't even share the same room anymore, and it's sad. So very sad. The only reason the two didn't get a divorce is that it would ruin the family financially.

It was much better years ago. This change is horrible. It's unfair.

Once the door closed, I stared hatefully at it. Dad ruined something precious, and I can't wonder if he's noticed that.

Kaylin looked outside the window, "Your loser friends are outside, you want me to call them?"

I didn't like that, but neither did I say anything. Kaylin was always a bit bitter since she's the middle child, and she wants to be the youngest here since she remembers how our parent's used to spoil me a lot back then. Saira came up with a remark, "At least he has friends. So don't be bitch Kaylin. This type of day is where friends are needed."

The younger sister scowled, but mom interrupted before argument arrived. "If Jaeden's friends are here that means the Reaping is getting closer, so get dressed now. And I do mean now."

"Yes, mom," I said, more relieved than I should have shown. I need to leave this house.

I went to change quickly, getting a loose plain blue shirt and old denim pant's tied up usually by shoelaces paired with brown lace-up industrial steel-toed boots. Not too formal, but I agree with Sarai that the Reaping doesn't need anything fancy.

When I stepped outside my home, I see my two friends. The next best family a guy can get. They already see me.

"Hey man, guess what happened yesterday?" Mordi, a dark-skinned slightly older boy with an ugly bowl haircut, told me.

"What is it?" I asked, honestly curious.

"The school exploded! I mean, you can't tell me that you didn't hear about that!" Mordi exclaimed.

I shook my head, widening my eye's a little, "This is new's to me. What the hell happened?"

"Some dumbass was messing with far too much shit and blew up nearly a quarter of a school. The end," my other friend Lancia stressed, she had jet black hair and freckles on her face. "I heard this shit far too many time's bowl-cut, let's just get some fucking cake before the goddam Reaping starts."

Lancia is a bit vulgar, but she's honest.

Rubbing his bowl hair cut, Mordi laughed positively. "Hey, don't mess with the hair. It's my prized possession."

Mordi is also honest, and possible the easygoing person I know. He never takes offense to anything.

"You look like you're wearing a fucking pot on your head, you desperately need a haircut Mord," Lancia exclaimed.

The other friend smirked, "No I don't. I'm perfect just the way I am."

"Keep telling yourself that," I deadpanned. "So, about that school. Do you know who did it?"

"Beat's me," Lancia shrugged, an action that was followed by Mordi. "But who cares, honestly. Not like any of us weren't going to become mechanics anyway?"

That's the hard truth right there. I secure in my future if and when dad and mom are ever going to get a divorce by taking over the family workshop when they retire, but transportation is the District Six gig, and the Capitol is trying their hardest on not giving many other's a different career choice. Sarai work's as a cashier for three workshop's including the family's, she's hardworking like that, and she does it for the family. Sarai is pretty much the only family member I can tolerate.

"Was anyone hurt?" I asked.

"A few teachers. The explosion happened a couple of hours after school. No kids were hurt, thank Snow," Mordi said seriously.

"Yeah, now those fucking kid's has a chance to go to the Reaping. Dam shame," Lancia concluded before snarling. "Can we go get some fucking ice cream now?!"

And we did that. Mordi suggested it yesterday and thought it would be a good idea. I don't ever believe any of us are going to get Reaped, but Mordi kept saying that ice cream should be the last meal before the Reaping starts. Lancia and I agreed. I appreciate blunt people, those who speak there mind, and Lancia and Mordi are just that.

I had worse 'friends' before them when I was stupider. My family(mostly Sarai) taught me better on how to avoid certain crowds that egg an old guy's home. Mordi and I met in class one day, he came with me to the workshop, I liked spending time with him, and we became friends. Lancia family work's with my dad, and, well, Lancia didn't get along with other girls due to her vulgarity and love for cars. She fit in with me, and Mordi well.

Three pairs of mechanic's becoming friends, I frecking love it.

"I welcome Falcon Kwah to District Six!" the mayor cried out in front of the crowd.

I hate the Reaping, however. So does everyone else around me. All these line's of children in the area, the atmosphere is always rigid at best.

A skinny looking capitolite went where the mayor was standing. The guy had a nasty sneer on his ugly thin face, looking down on us. His outfit is white, his tie is black. An opposite colored business suit if you can imagine. "Let the Hunger Game's begin," he said coldly. He said nothing more and moved on with the girl's glass bowl full of paper.

"Moira Balise."

I sighed in relief that it wasn't Lancia. Oh yeah, and my sister Kaylin. Sarai is twenty, thankfully, and I don't have to worry about her.

A girl from the sixteen-year-old line came up front. She's short, pale skin, brown eyes, and straight dark brown hair. At least nine out of ten girls cry when they get picked, but that's what stand's about her. She isn't crying or even all that shocked. She walked up with this stoic look on her face. A bit unnatural honestly.

At least it wasn't anyone I know, I thought selfishly.

Next was the boy's bowl, wonder who the sucker is going to be?

"Jaeden Rota."

Shock. Lot's of it.

I can't move my legs. My vision became blurry, either by some tears or something else. I can't- I couldn't believe it.

Peacekeepers were moving forward, but I think Mordi punched on, then he got on the ground. The Peacekeeper's brought me to the platform.

"To the District Six tributes: Moira Balise and Jaeden Rota. May the odd's ever be in their favor," Falcon announced cruelly. God, my mind is still fuzzy. I can't believe it, but I have to.

"Shut up," I managed to mumble. Falcon glared at me.

I had to shack hands with Moira, who looked at me with pity. Neither of us said anything to one another when the Peacekeeper's brought us to the Justice Building.

Kaylin came first, surprisingly.

"Don't die," she said and hugged me.

"What? No insults," I commented, a little out of breath.

Kaylin glared at me. "I think there's something a little more important."

"Right. Any advice."

"Yeah. Don't die."

" _Really?_ "

"What else did you want from me? I'm not an expert. Do something impressive I guess? Maybe? Just don't die."

She hugged me one last time and left. Then came Sarai and my parents.

They took turn's in the hugging, everyone's eyes were wet.

"Here," my dad offered a small box, it said the "Rota Family" on it. "Keep it. It's your token."

I looked at it. "Thanks," I said emotionally.

A thought appeared in my head. I looked at my short haired mom, "You know, if I win, we might have enough money to cure your cancer."

"What cancer?" she lied, even now. "Jaeden, we need to-

Sarai shook her head, "Mom shut it. He figured it out," she looked at me softly. "You can make it. You know that. Do you? Lay low, your good with electronics. Find a weapon or something. It'll be tough, but you'll pull through it."

The only thing I could do is agree, so I nodded. One more I looked at my imperfect family before they left. So perfect, we had a picnic in a broken railway one time, everyone smiled. Where is that? Nowhere, I thought.

Next came Lancia and Mordi.

"Mord? You're an idiot," I told him, pointing at my face. My friend's whole face was bruised.

Mordi had the gall to laugh at that, not a good laugh like he alway's had. "Yeah. Not the best of idea's, I'll admit," he sighed. "This won't end well. Will it?"

"Nah, don't fucking think so. I mean, Jaeden's tall, but he's not as muscular as the career's or any experience in weapons at all," Lancia observed. "He's kinda fucked."

"So much faith," I jested lightheartedly, they're honestly at least made me smile halfway. "I do have a chance, you know."

"Possibly."

I grimaced at her tone and gulped nervously. "Take care guys."

"You too, Jae. You too," Mordi said, making a fist bump which I happily returned.

I first bumped Lancia next, and she said, "Don't fuck up. We'll miss you."

They left then.

Now what?

How do I survive?

I'll stick to my gut, I thought stubbornly.

* * *

 **Moira Balise - District Six Female**

* * *

I looked at those wooden carving's, they disgusted me.

It's late. The class I'm in is one with machines and tools. It's used by the auto club sometimes, and sometimes it's used by the whittling club. I'm in both of those clubs. It's not that I have any friends in this school, I don't _like_ to people. I do not like being heard by anyone, and no one in this school knows me. No bully is after me, and no one is interested in me.

It's just me and my hobbies. It's the way my life move's on, and I certainly appreciate it.

It's the day before the Reaping. I was in the mech room filled with all sort's of tools and machines. Student's here do woodcraft as well.

There was this project we were supposed to be doing, and it was to carve out President Chamber action figures. I hated that, I don't hate much, but the Capitol I do hate. So Chamber's narcissism is spreading a lot when people paint black hair and cold grey eyes on some piece of wood people got.

Sometimes, I stay late at school. For my hobbies, to test machines, and I can whittle wooden knives.

I looked back at the door, seeing that no one was entering the classroom, I looked left or right. Good. There's no one here. The janitor already cleaned the room, and it's a teacher meeting today.

Standing up from my desk, I moved to the shelf where the class 'projects' were placed. Different size's and different form's of the beloved president was here, all made by the hands of students. I picked out mine, the best looking one, it resembled the president the most with his black business suit and his dark eyes which I deceptively made it look like he was afraid.

I cut off the head of the wooden ornament swiftly with my knife I used to make it.

"Accomplished my little goal," I relished my words. "Now, onward's to the alibi."

What I did wasn't illegal, but it most certainly is an act of aggression. I don't need anyone listing me for being a possible rebel.

I promised a teacher I'd fix his blender in the teacher facility room, I'll say that the accident happened with my 'project' and it split in half when it fell to the ground. One other option is I blame the janitor. That could work too. I believe there is a higher percent chance of the janitor idea working out.

The electronic hobby was my brother's, then I got into it. Both of us had joy from working together and building something. I remember vividly when both of us laughed when an old DVD player somehow got on fire.

That was before James got reaped into the Hunger Games seven years ago. He didn't make it back. I don't laugh as often now.

Once I fixed that blender, I went out of that crappy school. It took a lot of rewiring and replugging. I mean, everything was a mess, these teachers suck at gadgets which embarrasses me a little since everyone worth their salt should know how a fix things. We are District Six for crying out loud.

"BOOM!"

A loud noise was heard. I turned my head from behind and saw the fire. The school was on fire. It was on fire!

"Wow. Close call," I blinked at that. Was I second's away from dying?

"Better question. Is this my fault?"

Did the blender do all this? I mean, the some of the wires connected to the other's were quite fragile. Maybe? Perhaps I overloaded that cheap generator which made a chain reaction that blew up part of the school.

No. The chances of that happening are below ten percent.

I didn't stay long. Being near an explosion is not a priority, going back home to my simple parents are. If anyone died, it would be a shame. I feel sadness, but not overly much of it. I don't like people, and this is one reason I distance from them, so I don't feel misery after they die. The feeling of losing someone is worse like it was with James. Why would I want to suffer?

They had his death on a giant screen. Everyone saw James drown, once he died no one remembered his name. We never got his body back seeing that it's somewhere in the middle of the ocean.

"MOIRA!" a familiar young voice broke me out of my sad thoughts.

I see my younger brother Max looking bright as ever at the front of the house.

"Hey, Max," I gave my brother a tidy smile as I patted his light brown head.

"I made a picture of you and mom and dad," Max said excitingly. "It's colored!"

He then took out a badly drawn picture out of his backpack and put it up to my face. I hid my disgust. The drawing is as expected of a nine-year-old, so I'd best stay polite. "The quality of your drawing superb. You should continue improving, however."

Max took that as praise as smiled proudly. What a child, I thought.

"Dad's here again. He doesn't come home this early," Max whispered as if it's a secret. It's not as if that's a secret.

I shook my head. My father must've lost his job. I was expecting this, his technique in mechanics is to put bluntly, quite pathetic.

"Don't worry about it," I insisted before changing the subject. "So what happened in school?"

Better I ask him the question before he asks me.

"The teacher smell's funny," Max commented, noise twitching adorably at the memory. I almost chuckled. Almost. He made other fun little statements about what happened before we opened the door to our house.

Dad was on the couch, frowning and looking miserable. My father looked up when he saw us, and he was forcing himself to smile, "Hey, kiddo's."

I nodded and thought of something. "Dad. Do you need some coffee?"

"I would love some, sweetheart."

Should I have told him that I knew this was going to happen? Perhaps I should have. I knew of his lack of skill's in the District Six department was lacking, and I don't know if he knew it. There was one other reason I tried to stay unremarkable in school, and that was so I won't upstage my parents. A lot of people shun them for their poor abilities in the Autoworks. Let's say my parents aren't the most confident of people and I didn't want to make it worse.

I finished the coffee and passed it to dad, "Here. Warm and calming."

Dad took a sip, his kind dark eye's losing a small bit of its despair. "Thank you, Moira."

It was something at least.

I forced a smile, hoping it would be of little help.

I could finally take a job, I randomly thought.

"Dad! Look at this picture!" Max screamed out, and my little brother preoccupied father from his dark thoughts unknowingly. Good Max, he's better at cheering up the mood than I'll ever be. Dad is more interested in his younger son's story and laughed brightly.

Seeing this display warm's my heart. Thinking clearly, my father's banishment from his job is a temporary thing. He'll get a new one, it won't be easy, but he'll find one someday.

Looking up, I see an old photograph on the wall. One with James, and me when I was nine. What a bright smile I had back then, it matches Max. The Reaping is tomorrow, and there is hope that Max won't suffer having an older sibling being taken away from him.

"Moira Balise."

I blinked.

Well, that's unfortunate. Being reaped for the Hunger Games, that is. In front of me are a platform, a skinny escort named Falcon Kwah, and fellow children of District Six looking around for me.

Something else is on my mind at the moment. It was how could I be reaped? It was more out of curiosity than anguish people feel when something like this happens. I mean, what are the chances? One in a hundred thousand. Was it random or was it rigged?

Walking forward was the only option, the other option of running away is not possible.

The skeleton looking man is known as Falcon Kwah had an ugly sneer on his hairless face. He doesn't want to be here, and he's disappointed by me, possibly thinking I'm a bloodbath tribute. I would glare at him, but I can not blame him for making such a short-sighted assumption, I am small and physically unprepared for a life or death game. What I do have is my brain and my talent with technology. I have a better chance than most if I play my card's right.

Falcon called out the boy's name. "Jaeden Rota."

The reaction was an interesting one this year. A six-foot boy from the fifteen-year-old line came up, with a shocked expression on his face. This Jaeden Rota had brown hair and of average build. When a peacekeeper tried to get him, a boy with a bowl haircut punched the peacekeeper, which made an unexpected but stupid fight. The bowl hair cut boy was beaten back predictable, and a peacekeeper took Jaeden by the arm and lead him to the stage.

"To the District Six tributes: Moira Balise and Jaeden Rota. May the odd's ever be in their favor."

"Shut up," Jaeden had grumbled after Falcon announced, which made our escort glare at him. His entrance was one of rebellion, and Jaeden will have a harder chance at winning. He's moody, but to be fair, he was reaped right at this moment. I imagine he is nicer when he's not in such a stressful situation.

After a handshake, and some poor attempt of cheering, us tributes are lead to the Justice Building.

"Not you! Not again!" my mother sobbed on me, holding me close. "First James and now you! This is horrible!"

I hugged her as well, unsure of what else to do.

"I-I brought y-you something, Moira," my kind old dad said, handing me my token.

I inspected the token, and I was almost about to cry as well. It was a broken pocket watch. It was James.

"Didn't James have this in the arena?" I asked them.

"T-that was all of James they could've found in that damn arena," father growled, and looked back at me. "Sorry I cussed in you sweetheart. I- it's just that-"

"I get it," I said gently. "Thank's mom. Thanks, dad."

The crying went on until they had to leave.

Max came up to me sadly. "Does this mean you're not coming back?"

"I don't know Max," I said sadly.

"But you know everything. You made blueprint's for flying motorcycles and stuff," he argued, starting to weep as well.

"That was never going to happen," I told him, half-lying. Helecarrier technology is a hard thing to point out. I'm almost positive that reconstructing is possible in making flying cars.

I forced a smile. "Max, you're going to do fine. Do your school efficiently. Be the best in class, and tell amazing stories. Do you think you think you can do that?"

"Maybe... Yep, I can!" he said instantly. I'm not certain how much he understands, but soon enough he'll know. I wish for Max to have a better future for himself.

Soon enough, I might join our older brother. There is that chance.

* * *

 **A/N: YOOHOO! District SIX! First off, I must thank _G00N_ and _AGirlAndHerWildideas_ for moody Jaeden Rota and the explosive Moira Balise! I like to think the family here is better than the usual I'm getting, or at least Moira is. Ha! These guys.**

 **To the reviewers, I thank _curiousclove_ , _that one ace popsicle stick, Emberlex, 20, XC-Nerd, Disctrict5Ravenclaw, and DefoNotAFangirl._ You guy's fuel me and my characters. As for the rest of the readers, they are not the only ones who can review readers! So, please. Review or something. I'll look forward to anything you guy's post.**

 **Why not answer these two question's I'm giving out, huh? I will ask them again when I finish all the Reapings.**

 _ **Who's the best character so far?**_

 _ **Who's the worst character so far?**_

 **\- AlexFalTon. Thank you for reading.**


	9. Chapter 7: The Scarred

**Chapter 7: The Scarred**

 **District Seven Reaping**

* * *

 **Taliah Marik - District Seven Female**

* * *

" _The damage was permanent; there would always be scars. But even the angriest scars faded over time until it was difficult to see them written over your skin at all, and the only thing that remained was the memory of how painful it had been,_ "

\- Jodi Picoult

* * *

"Hmmm," I hummed, following along a melody I was producing.

The fiddle in my hand (a smaller violin honestly) makes the best of sounds in place.

"~ _I get this going fever every time I hear a tune~,_ " I sang lightly, stringing a few cords of my fiddle.

Today, I was wondering if I should wear a turtleneck. It's stylish, comfortable, soft, and most importantly, it hides my neck. I pushed the collar of the shirt to the neck to cover the burn scars. Yeah, I decided to wear a turtle neck.

"~ _That talks about the South Woods where the cactus is in the bloom~_."

I pushed a leg lower to the branch closest to me, this tree I'm sitting on is so green and bushy that it's perfect to play near the top of it. I looked at the wilderness of District Seven. All the tall evergreen around is such a beautiful sight, and playing around here calms me despite everything that happened Four years ago.

" _~I feel I ought to be there every evening after dark~_."

I kept stringing the four lines on my gorgeous fiddle. It was a gift for me for my birthday. A year after the incident, the fire that raged at least a quarter of the reserved forest.

" _~To hear a fiddler fiddling around the tune called Old Joey Seven~_."

Singing isn't my specialty, but sometimes I can't help myself when I play. Smiling unknowingly, I strung the fiddle once more, feeling the vibrations of the sound and feel of the instrument.

I could do this forever, just playing up here up a tree. I do it more then perhaps what my family and friends would like. They think I'm far too fragile to do anything like this. Well, we all got our hobbies. I don't need their opinions on what I can or can not do, I can be careful, and there's no fire anymore. There hasn't been a fire since four years ago.

"Tali! Get down from there!" Liam, my good protective friend of blonde hair and green eyes, cried out from below the tree I'm in.

While annoyed by most people, I smirked when Liam says stuff like that, really brings out his caring side.

"I like it here Liam, why don't you join me instead for once?!" I shouted back.

Liam inspected the tall tree, then looked up. "No thank you, I like it down here," he joked before saying, "Seriously Taliah, come back down!"

"Fine! I'm climbing back down!" I told him loudly. What a killjoy, I mentally mock in my head.

Slipping the fiddle in its case and putting it on my back, I proceeded cautiously climbing back down the tall evergreen. It's a lot easier with practice, but it's better not to teach the kids back home without proper guidance, not that I needed it.

"I keep telling you to stop doing that, and I am not the only one," he said with a chiding tone, arms crossed.

"And I keep telling you I'll stop," I said with a smile. "One day..."

My friend wasn't amused. "One day, your family is going to kill me for not stopping you from doing something stupid."

Shaking my head, I had to correct him. "Not my whole family," a grin appeared on my face. "Just Spruce."

My older brother Spruce could, arguably, more protective of me than Liam. One thing that amuses me is how Spruce test's Liam in all sort's of manner, like a test of strength or personality, almost every time. I mean, Liam is halfway handsome, but I'm not interested in him. Some other poor girl can have that honor.

"Okay. I'm going to ignore that," Liam mentioned, most definitely already imagining Spruce's judging eyes. "Listen, I foraged enough plants and Ophiliah should be back any minute now."

"Yeah think she'll get something?"

"Another rabbit most definitely, she has a talent for getting those furry things."

"Right. I keep forgetting that, is it weird that Ophiliah has that bunny whisperer thing going for her?"

"Not necessarily..."

"Umm. I'm here guys," a hesitant voice was heard next to us. Both I and Liam turned our head's to Ophiliah, a braided brown haired girl, and she indeed has a fat white rabbit on her arms. "I-it's not n-nice to talk to people's back like that."

I looked at her rabbit. "Aw. What a cute little thing," I moved my eye's to Ophiliah. "Is it going to end up medium rare or tender?"

"I uh, it's not-" she got all tongue-tied. "I don't know yet."

Playfully licking my lips, I said, "I hope you make it tender."

"Ah, okay?" Ophiliah agreed shyly, already forgetting her earlier complaint. She's not the best with people.

Honestly, she's a nice young woman. She'd be a vet if that was possible and not a hunter like everyone one in her family, like how I want to be a music teacher, but it's more likely I'll end up as a lumberjack like the rest of my relatives. Ophiliah's family and mines are good friend's who have dinner with each other, I'm not as close to her as I am with Liam -having known him since kindergarten- but she's fun to tease.

"Ophiliah, you are a gem," I said amusingly, proceeding to nudge Liam with my elbow. "I bet Liam's think's so too. Eh? Eh? Think the both of you are going to admit each other's feeling's for one other."

"Why d-do you say thing's like that?!" Ophiliah shouted, blushing a little.

Liam coughed, "Tali. Stop being a bother. No one is interested in anyone, and I go through that shit enough with Spruce."

Doesn't help that I keep telling Spruce I'm interested in Liam, for the jokes and my entertainment of course, and my eternal wish that my best friend Liam will never get a break. What can I say? District Seven, while beautiful, is boring and messing with people give's me the giggles.

"Anyway. Let's get back. We got to give the loot we found, and move on with the _Reaping_ ," Liam said urgently.

The word of that cursed tradition already depleted my mood, but I didn't show it. I'm braver than that, facing down a forest fire proves it. Despite the burn scar's, I'm tough as a nail and don't think otherwise. The Hunger Games wishes it had me.

"Yeah. L-let's go. We've been here longer than we should a-anyway," Ophiliah said in her usual nervous voice.

I raised my case holding my fiddle. "Do the both of you want the best music you ever heard on the way? I promise not to extort you."

"Pass."

"M-maybe next time."

"Killjoys," I pouted.

The moment was humorous as it should be, no one need's to think of the _too many Number Games_. My mother, Caren Marik, and my father, Karno Marik, are the best lumberjacks if I do say so myself(I'm not the only one), and they taught me how to use an ax like a proper person from District Seven in case I end up getting myself in the life or death game. Ok, that's not the real reason. I didn't want to be a lumberjack, and my parents did so they thought I'd buy the excuse that this is in case I ended up in the Hunger Games. I learned how to use an ax because my parents tricked me, honestly what a bunch of beakless _woodpeckers_.

That goes the same to Liam and Ophiliah for not wanting to do hear my music.

I'm not lazy if anyone thinks that. Ophiliah's family does hunting, Liam's in a family of herbs and medicine, and mine collects wood. Only I'm don't exactly need to do anything at the moment.

Dad and Spruce are doing the work today, and I saw them cutting log's open when I left my fiddle home. The Reaping was going to start, I had to be there, unfortunately, so I didn't get to say hi to them.

"Hello, District Seven! I'm happy to be here!" Fiffa Miffy, the district escort, screamed cheerily. She seemed so happy it was creepy, but, well, her hair is otherworldly. Her brown hair is spiky, like thorns. Maybe horns would be a better word for it. I don't know. I think I like it. She's mostly plain in appearance, and she's wearing a lumberjack suit. Yeah, that's racist.

No one in the town square was happy to see her, and no one wanted to say anything. Best not to repeat what two years ago, was tribute's family member attacked a peacekeeper and the guard opened fire. It set off a panic with twelve deaths, and an escort(everyone in the District celebrated that one). Fiffa seems to have never gotten learned what happened to her predecessor with how happy she is.

"Let us all get a move on! Female's first!" the escort said, moving to the girl's bowl and read the name,

"Taliah Marik!"

I want to scream out! I want to rebel! I want to GTFO!

The thought's in my head were angry, it was desperate, but it turned hopeless.

There was nowhere to go, but forward. I faced a forest fire, going up near death itself isn't a new experience(I might exaggerating there).

I walked forward to the stage, trying my best to appear as brave as possible, and honestly, I was more angry than depressed, so I glared at everyone around me.

Fiffa moved on the boy's bowl. She called out, "Aspen Wolfe."

Who could this be? Then a boy from the fourteen-year-old line came _limping_ next me. The kid was crying too. He was a thin boy with curly brown hair and blue eyes. This Aspen character also tried his best to be brave, and looked both me and Fifa in the eyes and nodded. He's holding together the best he can. I'm doing better, but that isn't stopping a tear coming out of the corner of my eyes.

Snow dam him, a person like Aspen shouldn't be in this.

"To the District Seven Tributes: Taliah Marika and Aspen Wolfe! May the odd's ever be in their favor!" Fifa said that to the crowd, they cheered out of respect, but nothing else. For the record, the last line is far too cliche. I mean, it's like a dead slogan at this point.

I went to the Justice Building. It's not as if I had a choice at this point. I look at my district partner, looking miserable.

"Everything's going to fine, Tali," Liam began saying.

I looked at him strangely. "Do you really believe that? I'm in the Hunger Games Liam. It's not going to end well even if I win."

He didn't change any feature on his face. "I think you're underestimating yourself there Tali. You have charm, ax skills, and you make decent music when you want to."

"Fuck you asshole," I laughed. It was unexpected but appreciated.

Ophiliah looked lost, I can tell she cried before getting here. She was struggling to say something. "Want to pet him?"

The bunny in her arms was still there, and once more I smiled unexpectedly. "Sure."

"You can make it. Y-you can," Ophiliah reassured while I was petting the rabbit.

"Thank's guy's," I said lightly. "I needed that."

"We'll support you all the way," Liam said strongly. Ophiliah nodded in agreement.

It's nice to have friends like these. The thought's of me dying however keep coming. It's not just that, it's going to televised across Panem and my family is going to see me survive in this. I don't want them to see me die or suffer when it comes to it. The Hunger Games are never pretty.

Eventually, it was the family's turn.

My usually lighthearted father was hugging me to the point of suffocation, which I called out to him. Karno Malik never faced such despair before, and he didn't give much useful advice.

My mother, Caren Malik, looked equally desperate for me. She was angry about this but kept her rebellious tongue to herself. She has black hair, but I got brown hair from dad, but the curliness of my hair was from her. Best of two worlds, and I'll miss them both.

"Are you ok Talia?" my little three-year-old sister Karma asked innocently. Mother's little clone, she'll do fine in the future.

I pinched her cheeks. Karma stepped back saying 'Stop it!'. Adorable. I needed that.

"Everything's going to fine, Karma," I told my little sister, and she accepted my word's naively.

"O-k," Karma sang, giggled for some unknown reason. Who knows how the young one's mind works?

Dad grabbed Karma and lifted her up. "It's time to go," he said sadly.

One last person came. Spruce. You can tell by the broad shoulder's he works as a lumberjack, and you can tell from just looking at us that we're siblings with the brown hair and similar facial features.

We were silent for a moment.

"I wish I could've volunteered to go with you," Spruce said regretfully.

That wasn't _un_ expected to hear. I sighed, "You're nineteen now, it's far too late."

And for that, I'm glad he can't. I don't want him to die for my sake in a deathmatch.

"GODDAMIT!" he yelled out at the world, much like a mother.

"Wow, don't take the ceiling down Spruce," I joked jovially, much like our father. "I'm pretty sure the Wolfe family down the hall can hear you."

"It's just not goddam fair! Fucking Snow!" Spruce cussed.

"Hate that guy," I chimed in. Weird how the Capitol allows people to curse possibly the longest-serving president/tyrant in Panem history like that, then again, as history dictates, he killed a couple of his own to keep himself in power. The world record for the biggest bastard goes to old President Snow! An old joke spread across Panem.

"Spruce," I called him in the most serious tone I've ever done in my life.

He noticed. "What is it?"

"Take care of Karma as you have for me. Laugh, play, and make fun of each other. Can you do that?"

Spruce nodded slowly, he was in deep thought. It didn't suit his ugly mug. "Of course. Of course Taliah, I'll alway's remember you. I want you to know that."

"Who'd ever forget me?" I gave a grin.

He gave one back. "Maybe the Capitol is the one who should fear you instead."

With my ax skill's Spruce taught me, and my climbing abilities. I'd certainly be a what they'd expect out of District Seven.

"Don't think much of the burn's Taliah, keep that in mind. Seriously. There's going to be a lot worse than a fire in a Hunger Game's arena. There alway's is."

What rare wisdom my brother gave, but being reminded by it was worse. "You know what? I'm pretty sure those Capitolite's know how to hide my scars. I can shrug it off better than ever."

"Okay. Taliah. Good luck. I'll wish you luck."

"Thank's bro. I think I need it, and it's good to hear if coming from you."

"Oh right, one more thing," Spruce said suddenly, bring my fiddle case from behind the door. "I think you still need a token."

Indeed I do, and some semblance of happiness came to me.

He left soon after. It was tough. It's going to be tougher. I'll have to make plans, jokes, and - _OH MY GOD I'm going have to wear a dress!_ How can I do that? I haven't worn anything fancy in my life! Wait, priorities. Priorities. I'll think about that later.

It was time to go to the train, and for all the excitement it used to bring, I don't feel like it's going to the best experience of my life. I'm going to have to be my old joyful self for a while.

Once I went outside, having peacekeepers on my side. I saw Fifa and Aspen.

Aspen smiled with unexpected positivity when he saw me coming, "Hi! I'm Aspen Wolfe! Your new district partner! Nice to meet you!"

At least someone's joyful.

* * *

 **Aspen Wolfe - District Seven Male**

* * *

"Hey Mom! Hey Dad! Good morning Cedar! Good morning Poppy!" I greeted my family with a smile on my face.

"Someone's happy," Cedar said dubiously. My older brother is a worrywart sometimes, but he can make good jokes. "Real weird in a day like this."

"It's a day like this we should be happy else you're all going to be sad," I insisted. I was taught that at least, and it made sense.

My family was eating, getting ready for the day of work and the yearly Reaping. We aren't all that worried about it. We never considered that anyone in this family would ever end up in _those games_. My brutish looking father Gerald alway's told me never to worry about it but to be careful not to make any peacekeeper's angry because of what happened two years ago.

That horrid riot, I thought morbidly. Forever making me walk with an unsteady leg. Peacemaker's and citizen's fought, some died because the peacekeeper's opened fire. It was my first Reaping, and it was the worst. My left leg got trampled by a peacekeeper vehicle that day. I almost died. It's hard to smile sometimes, but it's better than being sad.

"Fuckin Peacekeepers. Fuckin Chambers. Thing's have to change one day," my dad muttered on the kitchen's counter. He alway's complained about the social-political issue with the Capitol and how unfair it is. Most of the time, I agree. It's just sometimes his suggestions are too violent. Good thing he'll never act on it.

My mother Briar already looked flatly at him, "Oh dear. Are we going to have another rebellion in our hands?"

"No, but it's about time everyone should. Why hasn't there been a rebellion yet? You'd think everyone would do it sooner," dad reasoned. While dad does look like a bald bodybuilder, he isn't in any way dumb. His question does bring up a good point.

"Because of Snow dad," Cedar, my older brother of the same brown fuzzy hair, answered like that meant everything. "Capitol's fear run's ever deep."

I don't need this conversation. We don't need this conversation. That has to change. Not again, we don't need this.

"Cedar! You said we came got trapping before the Reaping! Come on!" I called out. You can tell that I'm a master of evasive maneuver.

My family noticed, and Cedar nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

"I want to go too!" our little sister Poppy wined in the dusty couch she's sitting on.

"Not today, little lady. It's nap time!" our mother informed her youngest child.

Poppy shook her head as expected someone her age to do. "I'm not tired!"

Then she yawned and blinked the next second. "That doesn't mean anything!"

"Yes it does," mother insisted as she swooped up Poppy and held her tight in her arm's, then moving towards the stairs. "Time for nap time."

"NOOOO...!"

We all watched as mom and Poppy(dragged) up the stairs. I turned to Cedar. "Can we go now?"

Cedar nodded. "Let's."

While _naptime_ sound's embarrassing, it's a better word I'd use today over anything resembling Hunger Games. It's a blessing that Poppy exists in our live's. I used to have the same childlike wonder like her before the riot, and that's something every family needs. I can still light up the conversation. Don't get me about that. My leg tends to disable laughter sometimes, but that doesn't stop me from keeping my family happy. They need someone to look for comfort.

They need a hero.

"Hey guy's, glad I caught up in time," a handsome blonde youth made his to us.

I need a hero too, sometimes. To lighten up my day.

"Rowan, what up's?" Cedar greeted.

"My feet are sore, my family is choking the life out of me, and it's Reaping Day," Rowan said humorously. He was my brother's best friend, and he works alongside the family sometimes. "I've been better. So, who wants to hunt innocent small animals?"

"I do! I do! Pick me!" I offered.

Rowan looked down at me, bemused. "No way, I need a short fuzzy-haired kid with one working leg for this operation. You sure your him."

"Yep. Of course. I'm the greatest trapper in the world!" I praised myself, trying my best to appear cool. Only I faltered a little after his words sunk in. "Also, what you said earlier. That was in bad taste, Rowan."

Rowan coughed, scratching his ear. "Yeah, it was. Sorry. Today got me in a morbid mood."

I shrugged and smiled. "No biggie. At least you're trying to lighten up the mood." I nudged at Cedar. "At least you weren't talking about politics like some _people_."

"Ouch," Rowan said in a false patronizing tone, looking at Cedar. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"

"What do I have to say?" Cedar starts then gulps. "I say let's go trapping. What about you guys?"

I shook my head, smiling alongside my conspirator Rowan. "That doesn't work when you're not my age Cedar. Don't change the subject."

"Screw you guys!" Cedar yelled out, before laughing alongside Rowan and me.

Both Rowan and I shared a fistbump. The older boy that I looked up to said, "Good one."

That was praise which I took far too seriously, but can you blame me? Rowan is my _hero_. He saved my life in that riot two years ago. Did I get wounded back then? Yes, I had. But it could have been worse if Rowan didn't carry to my house. I could've died. It was too late for my leg, but that's nothing, er, almost nothing. He's a good guy, he taught me to alway's be positive, and I look up to him more than I do my family.

Cedar glared lightly at me. "You know what, Aspen? How are you and Avery doing these days?"

I gagged.

"What's this? Little Aspen finally asking the poor girl out?" Rowen teased.

"It's not like that!" I protested. Honestly! Why would they need to know about my hunting buddy? She's cool, smart, pretty- Oh God! I'm growing up!

Both boy's laugh at my flustered fast. Screw you guys! And screw you Cedar for your petty revenge!

Once the laughter died down, Cedar led us to the forest ahead with heavy materials at hand. "Alright. Enough fun. Let's go have fun hunting in the forest instead."

The show was over. We had a time and place to be. Other than that, we managed to get mushrooms and even a deer. Had a few laughs, and it softens the day of the Reaping.

Nobody was worried since not one of us was going to get into the Hunger Games.

"Aspen Wolfe," the incredibly spiky haired escort called out on the stage.

I felt like someone smacked me.

My stomach felt queasy, and my head was starting to get dizzy.

Why was this happening? How? Why? Question's of unfairness entered my mind. Can't it have been someone who wasn't me? A stronger lumberjack, perhaps? I have a limp for crying out loud!?

Every kid around the town hall looked around for a beat, trying to find me. I think I'm crying.

In a short while, one of the kid's I go to school with pointed me out. The boy's in front of me moved out of my way.

I didn't like any of the looks I'm getting, once they saw me limping to the stage, it is quite clear what they think. It's what I think. That I don't have a chance in hell with my leg, and my age certainly didn't add much to their expectation.

Once I go on stage, I saw my district partner. I didn't pay much attention to her name, and when I see her I see brown hair, brown eyes, and she like's wearing a turtleneck shirt. It looks cozy. The other thing is that she's already more fit and muscular than I'll ever be and that she's definitely going to a challenge in the arena unlike myself. She'd give a career a good fight.

"To the District Seven Tributes: Taliah Marika and Aspen Wolfe! May the odd's ever be in their favor!" the escort announced. Do I have to learn about that impossibly done hair lady's name? I wasn't paying attention.

And to the Justice Building, I went. Endless thought's of death is clouding my mind. I can't see much of the way in happiness right now.

"Those fuckin bastards," dad whispered viciously, not wanting the peacekeeper's outside to hear him.

Mom didn't reprimand him for once since she's too busy crying. She looks more stressed than when she comes back from her mending cloths job. I'm glad Poppy is asleep. She doesn't need to see this.

I looked at dad, mom, and Cedar in the room. It was mostly silent. No one wanted to be the first mention the obvious. "I'm not going to make it," I decided gloomily.

"Don't say that-," Cedar said before I cut him off.

"I can't run!" I screamed, glaring at him. "I'm going to end up as a bloodbath!"

"Aspen. There are still odds. You still have a chance," dad tried to reassure me. "There is still a chance."

"Not a big one."

"Then promise to give it your best, Aspen. Please. Can you try? For us. For Poppy?" mom asked me to promise.

"I can," I said, not wanting to look at any of their eyes. "I'll try," I spoke as a whisper. "I'll try. I promise," I said louder.

Then came the hugs, and the dreadful goodbyes. Then came in Rowan.

"Hey kid," he breathed out.

I looked up at Rowan, still finding some awe in his presence, but not as much. Too sad.

"What the hell? I'll take a wild guess and think you're not doing alright," he said to me.

I snorted. "You think?"

"So, what's the plan here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to mope? Lay down on the ground like your life is already over? _What's your plan Aspen?_ "

When he asked that, I started to guess. "I guess I'll find the closet bag and try my luck."

"Is that is? Are you're planning on dying?" he asked harshly.

I glared at Rowan. "Of course not! Just, let's be realistic here. I'm going to die. My leg is going to end me."

"It's an inconvenience Aspen," Rowan advised. " _So what?_ If you're going to act like that, people are going to think you're going to die like that. Fucking Snow! Aspen, you can't act like this. It's unfair as it can be, but you can't act like this. Be like you usually are, people will love that. Survive the bloodbath, and you'll have sponsors."

His word honestly brings me a little life to me, and the advice is good, but still. "I'll still die."

"You _might_ die. And even if you do, do you want your final days being moody and sad or do you want at least to find some happiness when you're in the Capitol?"

"I- wow," I managed to say, thinking on his words. There was a reason Rowan is my hero.

"Thanks, I'm better now."

And now I have a plan. I'm not the strongest, and I'm not the fastest. No, I have to get some allies. That's all, death is still a big chance, but Rowan reminded me that now is the best time to be happy. It's better than being sad.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you _Emberlex_ and _XC-Nerd_! Once more for submitting the brave Taliah Marik and positive little Aspen Wolfe! I'd like them better if I wasn't such a tryhard, I'll be honest right there. I know I messed up with the sub-characters here. Like Ophiliah, she was supposed to be Avery, but I messed up. I apologize, but I'm far too lazy to fix that little thing. I promise not to make the same mistake twice.**

 **I'm rather busy, unfortunately. Stuff happened. I'll bring out new chapters as quickly as possible.**

 **I still got question's in my mind to ask the reader's:** _ **What design should the cornucopia be? Any ideas?**_


	10. Chapter 8: Reason For Rebellion

**Chapter 8: Reason For Rebellion**

 **District Eight Reaping**

* * *

 **Marron Deinan - District Eight Male**

* * *

" _This isn't going to be pretty. Rules will be broken. Friendships will be tested. And huge risks will be taken. But they're small prices to pay for true love and freedom, right?_ "

-Lisi Harrison, _Monster High_

* * *

I sipped a glass of my _esteemed_ father's hundred-year-old wine. A wine that no plebian from this district could ever hope to grasp. Those factory workers would never have understood how to drink it correctly anyway. Father would most likely punish me from taking this, but I can only blame the workers. After all, who's my father going to believe more? His son or some random plebian.

Currently, I was sitting on my father's office chair, putting my leg's up in a comfortable position on the desk. Is that disrespectable? Yes, it is. I don't care if it is. This fancy little decorated little room is more to show off dad's wealth than anything else. It's to impress those hotshot's in the Capitol, nasty bastards that only my father would call friends. Not that I care honestly, they buy from dad, dad get's money, and so on and so on. Neither I or my father care who wants the cloth we sell as long as they pay well.

We even sold to rebel's before, though it's mostly for information on the Capitolites than the cloths. Bunch of damn losers who think they still have a chance at _freedom_ and _victory_. A bunch of idiot's, that's what they are.

They're all going to die one day. And I'm going to laugh when they do. I sipped another of that spicy liquid in my hand, grinning. Being me is the damn best. I can get away with anything.

My father owns a stretch of factories all around the district. He's the king, and I'm the prince. While I'm not looking forward to being the owner of the corporation my dad owns, and I do I want my father to live as long as possible so I can live the most carefree life. Can anyone imagine a life where everyone listens to me, a good life where no one tells you what to do? I'm the envy of many, the best of the dam best, and my presence may as well be an honor.

Once more I sipped, what a great way to get something done.

"Hey, Marron do you know - _what are you doing!?_ " My younger brother Dack cried once he saw me.

His sudden appearance got me on edge, so I did what came naturally. "I was looking at some document's dad wanted me to recheck. You know, company business."

"We have accountants for that! Oh, fucking Snow!" Dack looked worried at that as if I broke one of those old religious commandments. "You drank from dad's wine cabinet, didn't you?!"

God, he's loud when he's a being a whiny brat.

"Yep," I said. There's no point in lying now. "And I have to say this, at least dad know's how to pick his wine. It's shit, but it's also not shit. A weird combination, but it makes it purer. That's so damn good."

Dack, ever a worrier, didn't think so. "What happens if dad finds out?"

"He won't," I bragged. "I'll find some servant to scapegoat. Everything's fine."

"Except for the servant," he pointed out, my brother's eyes were glaring at me.

I didn't like it that look in his eyes. It means he disagrees.

"What about it?"

"You think dad's going to go easy on that guy! He'll punish him, not just fire him, _punish_ him."

"Your point?"

Dack, the idiot he is, he didn't like that response and shouted, "Goddamit, Marron! You can't do! I-I'm going to tell dad!"

He keeps on talking, and it's ruining my mood I had going. Now, he's threatening me. Like hell, I'd let go without consequence.

"You sure about that Dack," I said with a menacing edge to it.

"Your going to get someone hurt, you've can't do this," he replied with nervousness.

I've never actually done anything this bad before, but I refuse to get caught. I tend to teach a couple of kid's at school a little lesson on how not to mess with me. I do suppose it's time to teach my little brother the same thing.

"I see..."

Putting the wine down, I ran as fast as I can to my younger brother before he could react to run away from me. I socked Dack right in his freckled face, making him go down to the floor. I then made sure to kick him in the stomach in the stomach for good measure.

Dack groaned in pain, "Wha-"

I kicked him again. He yelped.

"Are you going to tell anyone about this Dack?"

He looked at me in fear, as he should. I clenched my fist and showed it near his face.

"I'm not going to tell anyone..."

I smirked. Feel's good to win. It would be troublesome if dad ever learned about, but this victory, it proves how much stronger I am, how much Dack will never be. A couple of day's ago, I alway's worried if Dack will ever try to take my place as the company's heir, but I don't think so anymore. He's too weak, physically and mentally.

"You damn better Dack. I've done worse to idiot's who they can get away from insulting me," I advised. It's true, a couple student's and servants ended up with a few broken bones. "Clean your nose on the way, or leave it. You look better for once."

Once that was done, I took my wine cup and walked away from my brother, who's still laying on the floor and clutching his bleeding nose. I laughed once I closed the door. I was pleased once more.

I sipped a glass of wine while walking down the long hallway of my father's(one day mine) mansion. The servants were getting out of my way, looking away, hopeful that I won't notice them when their working.

Ah, to be a king like me. It's awesome.

"Now, everyone. To those who don't already know, we have a new escort since the old one passed away. Allow me to welcome Diamond Granite!" the mayor shouted out. The mayor here is an old fart, one way in my father's pocket. He'll be in my pocket one day, and the thought of that kind of power could turn a man.

Yeah, I'm at the Reaping. I'm in the front like I'm supposed to be, and other's are staying a good ten step's away from me. Wonder if I smell or something? Nah, I'm kidding! The fear in those kid's eyes are as plain as day, and I love it.

"Hello, District Eight! I'm so happy to be here!" The escort named Diamond introduced himself. Look's like classical capitolite wannabee, all happy and excited. His blue hair shines, his green jacket look's unique, and that's all. He has this round innocent face that makes me want to punch him. "Now, we all know why we're here, and I want to get this along. So let's get going to the lucky lady."

Lucky? Innocent little deluded shitbag, the worst kind of Capitolite.

The green haired escort called up some no-name, "Hadley Holbrook!"

For the most part, I was only paying attention to see someone crying, but I was disappointed. This Hadley chick all up and walked to the platform. She had this look that I am not used to seeing, and I don't know if I should be impressed or pissed that she didn't cry or scream or something. There's not a lot that stood out from her. She's short, thin, brown eyes, and brown hair that she tied to a bun. I guess she could pretty if she tried, but I've seen woman hotter than this District has to offer(and men admittedly).

Once Hadley got in Diamond's side, he got to boy's bowl.

"Marron Deinan!"

That, what? What? WHAT!? What the fuck!?

"What the fuck!?" I yelled angrily. This is bullshit! Do they not who I am!?

I ran back, not forward to the fucking platform. I pushed some of the boys so that they can get out of the way.

Then the Peacekeepers came in front of me.

I glared at them. "Get the fuck out my way! Do you dibshit's not know who I am?!"

They tried to touch me! So, I responded in the way I always do. I punch the closest peacekeeper. Then the other's came and very easily overpowered me. I was bloody from my head, and my ribs were a little sore. Two peacekeepers were dragging me to the platform, and the bitch Hadley looked smug while Diamond looked worried.

The escort coughed on the microphone, hoping to get attention from my outburst. "To the District Eight tributes! Hadley Holbrook and Marron Deinon!"

Fuck that guy.

They took me to the damn Justice Building. I raged a lot in my waiting room, destroying some property. At least the Peacekeeper's weren't stopping me there.

"Marron!" a feminine voice was heard. My mother was here. She instantly hugged me, no doubt crying for her innocent little boy. I lied to her a lot, and she's easy to lie to. His darling boy would never steal cookies after. I alway's blamed a servant, and she alway's bought it. I know she's my mom, but I can't but think she's unbelievably stupid.

"You did now, didn't you?" another feminine voice was heard, my older sister Arden was here too.

"Fuck you. Wheres father?" I insulted and asked.

"You think dad would cancel a business meeting to see you?" she rhetorically questioned.

Good point. "What about sponsors? Do I have dad on that?"

"You have me on that. Don't worry about it," Arden reassured. "By the way, don't do anything stupid like say, punch a peacekeeper when you go the interviews alright. You have the family to think about here."

I snorted. "Yeah, whatever," I pushed my mother lightly(in my case) out of her hugging. "That's all I need. You can go now."

Ardel shrugged. "Whatever." My older sister pulled my mother by the arm. I do not know what goes on in her head. She ignores me most of my life, working with family and being a lawyer. Then again, she never did anything harmful to me. Ah, who cares? As long as she gives me sponsors.

There was one other person who came.

"Dack? What are you doing here?"

My younger brother stared at me. "Why are you like this?

I glared at him. "Like what."

"An asshole. You know, a lot of people were cheering when you came inside the Justice Building. You ruined people, Marron. You threaten people. Why are you like that?"

"Cause I can. I'm awesome. I'm rich. They aren't," I replied without hesitation arrogantly. "Those poor bastard's nothing more than shoe maker's anyway."

Dack chuckled. "Well, now your the one getting the boot. I can't even stop myself from being happy. You are so going to die."

"Say that shit again Dack."

"You're going to die. Ardel is going to take over dad's company, and everyone's going to celebrate when you die."

I glared hatefully. "You make it sound I won't win."

"Because you won't."

"Did you forget? I'm a bully, like the Capitol. And the Capitol won for a near two centuries. You better pray Dack that I'll be merciful when I get back, you better fucking pray to Snow."

Dack gulped at seeing me starting to smile while I was saying those words. Oh yeah, Dack is going to pray all right? So should the other twenty-three tributes. Life is cheap to me, and so are theirs.

* * *

 **Hadley Holbrook - District Eight Female**

* * *

I'm a rebel. Let's start with that.

Both of my parents are rebels. While it may appear (and they try their damn best as a family) that we're a regular working-class family in the textile factory number thirty-seven, it's nothing more than a cover-up. My family is a part of a group known as Fiat Lux. True, we are a small group, but it's size possible help's us more than some full-blown rebellion organization could. The goal of Fial Lux is to sabotage the Capitol using stolen information from them. There's a lot we discovered, and at the very least, we gave the Capitol a good nosebleed.

Mom and father were good at it: Rebelling. Some day's, I wonder if we don't have to be rebels. We could've become a regular family, without worries of being found out. Only, it's far too late for that.

I didn't join Fiat Lux until I was eight. It was when mom "disappeared" one day. I know what happened to her. Dad does too. The Capitol found some connection to us, and mom took the fall for it. She sacrificed herself to save me, and dad. Dad was drunk once she didn't come back, then decided on a better path than drinking. Revenge.

My dad thought this would be better. Revenge against those that left me motherless, and I don't disagree. He trained me a few months after her death. He had a hand in my lockpicking skills and physical conditioning. My computer skills were a talent equal to my mother's before she sacrificed herself. Honestly, I could become an assassin if I wanted to be, but I was better and safer put in infiltration.

Honestly, I did better than anyone in the Fiat Lux thought. I was never caught, not once since I started in my first mission at the age of eleven. I'm fifteen now, and I hacked, infiltrated, destroyed so much Capitol has bounties of the supposed _Bonny Bandit_ (don't ask). They don't even suspect it's a girl my age -and a father has said to me many times- youth is an advantage of its own.

"Hey Hads. _Hads_. Hads! Wake the hell up girl!"

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is my best friend, Kaya. Then I looked around me.

"Did I sleep on a hill?"

Kaya, with the wisdom of a fifteen-year-old, crossed her arms and raised a brow, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I slept on a hill," I mused to myself and turned to my black-haired best friend. "You should join me. The grass is surprisingly comfy, and the view is great."

She laughed at that. "You're unbelievable."

Yeah, I am, to my friends(one that is) at least. I'm usually too distant from other's my age and in school. I can't trust people easily in my line of work.

The view on this hill was pretty neat. I wasn't kidding about that. All the factories in my sight were not that bad, you'd have to be born in District Eight to understand the unique beauty of all the factories of different shapes and sizes with half of them blowing fumes from the chimneys. The housing blocks are also there.

This hill is where Kaya and I meet for our play dates. What? I need something to do when I don't go running ops with my dad.

"Yep. You know I get tired after my _job_. Anyway, you're late."

"No, I'm early. Your just way early."

"Holy shit, I sabotaged so much yesterday that I can't even remember it correctly."

That's a record.

Kaya looked worried. "Did something big happen?"

I pondered, bringing back a few memories from my dreariness. I grinned. "The biggest success Fial Lux has ever accomplished."

"You gonna tell me?"

I patted on the ground next to me. Kaya got the meaning and sat right there.

It was a secret operation. I shouldn't say anything to anyone, but I can trust Kaya.

"Kaya. You are looking at the person who saved District Nine from total oblivion."

She turned her head in all direction. "Where?" Kaya said with such faux confusion that it pissed me off.

"This is top-level stuff I'm telling you," I said in total seriousness. "Be professional about it."

"Okay. I understand, but aren't you being a little dramatic about total oblivion."

"Just a little. It's still serious."

Kaya had a little hand gesture that meant I should go on with the story.

"I lockpicked my way in the Head Peacemaker's office in the Justice Building," I began. "He had a meeting on with the mayor, some capitol officials, and that dirtbag Deinan," the distaste at saying Deinan is bad, he's a rich guy letting paying everyone the lowest wages he can be allowed. I heard his son is worse, not sure if I believe it. "Anyway, I managed to get some copy key's from Lux and we found, and get this, that the Capitol was planning on brainwashing all those in District Nine and other's from eating grain."

"How does that work?" Kaya asked, sounding a little doubtful.

"It's not like Pre-Panem comic book kind of brainwashing. Some Capitolite scientist's modified grain into making people less angry and more obedient. It was a tough call from getting the hell out of the building, but I made it. The vents are thankfully, just my size," I smirked at my quick and intelligent escape. Thank god I'm short. "Once I gave the information out, District Nine started a riot, and for once, the Capitol back down. Want to know the best part?"

Kaya was leaning closer.

"No one died from this. No one got hurt, the Capitol knew it got humiliated, and if they strike back, it'll only encourage more trouble than it's worth for something that _is_ their fault. Best damn thing that ever happened yet for us."

"Not bad. Not bad at all," Kaya complimented, before turning to a thoughtful look. "It sound's nice Hads. It does. But, to me. It almost seemed like another huge risk."

"Oh Snow, not this," I told her, frustrated. At my big moment too?

" _Hads_. You could stop now, you know. You did a good thing, but it's not going to end."

"But, Kaya-"

"You might not get so lucky next time," Kaya scolded. "It's not just about that either, what is the Fial Lux doing? It's not a big group. Think about this. It can harm the Capitol sure, but will it ever get rid of it. You know I'm right Hads."

She's acting a lot like a mom, a thought that doesn't please me.

"I'm proud to be your friend," Kaya declared suddenly, realizing how critical she's being. "I don't want to think one day I won't see you up this hill anymore, you know."

Great, now how am I suppose to get angry?

I hugged her, "I get it, but I'd like to someone has to do this. Dad needs me for this, and my mom need's to get the revenge she deserves. You know you can't change my mind on that."

She was silent on that. Far too silent. I was getting worried. I squeezed her closer to me.

Kaya grinned. "No homo."

I tsked, then I pushed her away from me. "You are unbelievable."

It's not like that. I'm far too young and busy to think about romance anyway.

Kaya laughed. "Yep. So, next time next week."

I laughed along. "Like always."

We laughed. We played monopoly and checkers. We even did our nails, and it was fun like it alway's is when I don't bring up my job as a rebel. God, I'm glad I met Kaya. Life would be less fun and more stressful without her.

Too bad it can't alway's be like that. That conversation was a month ago, and it will alway's be remembered by me. For however long my life is.

Reaping Day is here.

"Hadley Holbrook!" Diamond, the new escort for District Eight called up my name.

The funny thing is. I was waiting for this. Like I knew this was going to happen. I glanced next to me, seeing that Kaya was more shocked than I was, I moved on.

I held myself confidently, and with determination, a girl my age shouldn't have as I walked to the podium.

Diamond, grinning like a loon, eagerly went to the boy's bowl. He announced to the crowd, "Marron Deinan!"

It's a dream come true to many in District Eight.

"What the fuck?!" Marron swears out loud.

There is something satisfying in seeing him beaten down by peacekeeper's while he fails to escape. They dragged the heir of a company to the podium next to me, and Diamond. Marron's sandy blonde hair had a little blood on it, and I couldn't tell his freckles apart from blood drops. I couldn't stop myself from grinning. If only I can see his father join the fun.

The escort coughed on the microphone, his once giddiness for the games were turning up a little dry. "To the District Eight tributes! Hadley Holbrook and Marron Deinon!"

Few clapped, honestly I was hoping to see my dad as soon as possible.

"Huh, it's different this time. You know what I'm talking about Hadley," dad comments, looking around the Justice Building. Yeah, I'm not stealing anything from here is what he meant.

"Dad!" I screamed childishly. A cover once I hugged Leon(my dad). "Do you think someone rigged me being here?" I whispered. I can't disagree with the possibility.

"Not sure, but I wouldn't hold it against the Capitol to simply assume you're a rebel's daughter?" Leon whispered back, glaring at the wall.

So, it could all be random.

"Hadley. When you're in the Capitol. Make a friend," Leon told me.

I raised a brow.

"An idea, and don't discard it as a bad one. I'm trying my damnest not to cry. I want to know that."

"Me too..."

I want to cry and tell the Capital all sort's of things, but not now.

We did cry and sobbed. I didn't want to go. I don't want to see mom yet.

"Take good care of yourself, Hadley," Leon tearfully requested. He left after that.

Dad's going to get better. He's strong even if I die, he'll get stronger.

Now for one more person. The most annoying girl in my life.

"HADS!"

Kaya and I have some goodbyes to share.

* * *

 **A/N: District Eight! District Eight! Wish I made them sooner. Aren't the tributes here a match made in heaven? Thank you _Professor R.J Lupin1_** **for the loveless Marron Deinan! Also, a big thank's to _LiveFreeOrDie_ for the badass rebel known as Hadley Holbrook. Seriously, it's like I got a Lex Luthor and a Superman in this chapter.  
**

 **Keep on Reviewing gals and guys!**

 **One thing, if anyone wants to submit a mentor(specifically for District 8). Do so, I see other's author do it, and I may as well offer the same thing.**


	11. Chapter 9: Children

**Chapter 9: Children**

 **District Nine Reaping**

* * *

 **Daisy Grove - District Nine Female**

* * *

" _Maturity is a high price to pay for growing up_ ,"

\- Tom Stoppard

* * *

"I hope you do well in the future sir," I told the man as I handed out his lunch.

The man who asked for free soup smiled. "You as well."

Then I noticed something fishy was going on. I think I got it.

"Wait a second. Didn't you already have your lunch?!"

The man was already running away. "You'll never catch me alive!"

That meanie-face. Aw man, this is a charity for everyone. Not one person! Stupid Daisy. I should've remembered that guy's face, but it appears I am unable too. That homeless guy's face was so average that he could blend with the wall. I better make sure this never happens again. Honestly, is getting another sandwich worth getting blacklisted from Colt's Charity Foundation?

I look at the line in front of me, all the people of unfortunate circumstances, waiting to get either some soup and a sandwich. Most of them are most likely not at fault at being where they are. A mean Capitolite could simply have burned a home and got away with it, or President Chamber's could create a new policy that'll make everything harder for District Nine.

I want to help.

There's a little thing my parents alway's taught. It's to do a good deed every day. They mentioned I should open door's for senior's or give the ball I found in the backyard back to the neighbor. Only, that's small. Mom and dad never _how_ big of a good dead I can do, and I wanted to help people. So, I went to the new thing District Nine is talking about, Colt's Charity Foundation. CCF for short. It's been a hundred year's since a welfare organization like this has been in the district. The 'Almost Rebellion' ruined a lot in District Nine from Snow(miserable meanie poo face), and I think the next president took pity on the district and helped it out.

I'm not that good a history, so let's say it's been a while since a thing like this has happened.

Anyway, the organization was new, and it needed people. People like me for volunteer work or some community work, you know, to help out. Maybe I'm a bit too young, being only thirteen, but mom and dad didn't argue, they even encouraged me to help out. I can have fun playing ball with kid's my age, but I enjoy doing this more.

"Daisy," my co-worker(man, I'm way too young to say that) Andrea said uneasily. "Watch out for those kinds of guy's alright? Also, remember to blacklist."

"I know that, Andrea. You know I know that. I'm not dumb," I retorted, giving her a playful glare.

Andrea is a mentor(I guess?) for me here. She's as old as my mom, but she's pretty with her red hair and freckles. I asked if she has any kids, but she laughed at that. I didn't bother after, that laugh creeped me out. Also, she has a bad habit of taking my yogurt. Alway's using seniority as an excuse.

"Yeah. Yeah, don't criticize the younger generation, also don't backtalk else I'll eat your lunch," Andrea told me critically, but also with a teasing grin.

She wouldn't dare! Mom made a salad this time, also a ham sandwich. It's delicious, and she knows it. Is this why shouldn't your parent's heavenly cooking with others? The cruelty of that sentence!

"Andrea don't say that! Where's your heart!?"

"In my freezer, now get to work squirt."

"We have the same job!"

Wait, now that I think about it, don't I have seniority in said job. I started last year when it opened in the first place. Andrea joined a few months after. I see the unfairness here, but I don't care enough. She's an adult, and I'll listen. Honestly, we get along well.

I like to work here. It feels like I'm contributing to something far more important than myself, and for a long time, as Andrea put it: District Nine feels more alive than it has in decades. What she say's is pretty much how I feel. It's a bit livelier when Paprika won last year's hunger games, and her not-boyfriend Colt set up the CCF. It's an honor, in my opinion, about how much this group is helping people, a step in the right direction.

Then, I saw a man in khaki pants, and a plain brown shirt, playing with his food alone in his table. He looked sad.

"Andrea take care of the fort, I have to go somewhere," I told her. Andrea nodded in return.

"Come back soon or better yet, sooner than later, it gives me an excuse for eating your lunch."

"You better not do that!"

I thought of something. My first thought is that there's no respect around here. My second thought is that Andrea gave me an idea, I got my lunch away from the prying eyes of my co-worker and took it with me when I walked to the table when the lonely man sits.

When I came close, I saw the sad man's face. He had a long jawline and long brown hair. His eyes were dark grey, making his sober expression increase.

The man looked up from his soup. "Wat? What are you looking at?"

At that, I went straight for introductions. "Hi! I'm Daisy Grove! What's your name!?"

"Non of your beeswake," he replied grumpily.

"Okay! Are you okay?"

He twitched an annoyed brow. That's good. Less sadness that way. "I'm fine. Now git."

I stayed where I was, but I remained silent for a minute until the man looked up to see I was still there. He sighed, "What do ya want?"

The smile in the face came instinctively. "Is the soup good?"

"Not bad," he said with hesitation. "Not goot either."

"Can you tell me your name?"

"No."

"Hi! I'm Daisy Grove! What's your name?"

The man stroked his face with the palm of his hands, obviously annoyed by me. "You're not going to leave until I tell you, are you?"

"Nope! So, tell me your name. Please."

"... Nathan."

"Hello Mr. Nathan," I snarked.

"Nathan Bellos, brat."

"That's better," It was. "Why are you sad, Mr. Bellos?"

Why should I care? I bet he'll ask me that. I'll bet my entire rock collection(don't judge me).

"Why do you care?"

I knew it!

"Because I want to. Because I can. Because seeing you sad make's me sad," I answered. "You should be happy."

"I don't particularly feel link I should."

He talks funny, I thought about asking him but decided not to(or maybe in a later date). "I promise not to tell anyone. You can trust me. I'm awesome at keeping secrets."

"Oi..."

"Because I don't have any! I'm boring! Please tell me. Talking helps everyone!"

Nathan looked skeptical. I don't blame him. He's a person, worse, he's an adult, and most people are alway's suspicious.

"Unless you have something better to do," I mentioned, not losing my smile. I was eager to learn about this random person I met.

"Fin then. Guess what I am?"

"Oh, I know! A wheat farmer!"

"No, I'm not."

"Really?!"

" _No_! Of course I'm a bloody farmer!"

"...Awww."

In hindsight, that was very obvious. I mean, what? About three to four quarters of the citizens in the district farm in the wheat fields. The workforce doesn't change much with the Capitol in charge.

"The pay isn't good then," I guessed. Once more, very obvious.

"Why else would I be here? Staving isn't in me to-do list."

Then I thought of something. "Then work here! It's fun here, and you don't have to see the same boring yellow field over and over again!"

"Aye, that would be. Wouldn't it," Nathan mused. He sounded like he would enjoy the prospect, but there's also hesitation and sadness in those near-silent words.

"Why are you so sad?" I asked the question that brought me to this table.

Nathan looked around him, everything in this building to the people, the soup, and that kitten poster. "Why can't I be?" he replied, gazing his eyes at his soup with a mix of sadness and anger. "We live in a crapsack world, a world ruled by terror, a world where they send children like you to fight to the death. It's easy to sadden, don't ye know?"

"I can understand that?"

He eyed me, doubt in his voice. "Do ye?"

My smile did turn a little strained at the question. "I do, but talking about sad stuff isn't what I like doing."

"Anythang in particular?"

"You first," I retorted curiously.

"Had a son. He's gone now."

"Ho-"

"Bloody Hunger Games."

"Oh. Benji Bellos, right? From last year."

Nathan nodded solemnly. Paprika Riverbreath district partner from last year was his son. Honestly, Benji had a good shot at winning Hunger Games. When I saw him with at the Reaping, he looked like Nathan now that I think about it, but younger, taller, and more muscular. He scored an eight along with Paprika. Both of them were some hope that District Nine could win that year, and we did. Paprika won, and Benji died in Day 2 from careers.

"I'm sorry."

I meant it too. I always mean what I say.

"Thank ye," he said. "Now. What about you?"

My eye's wandered possibly everywhere in the CCF Building. "Everyone around me. It's everything, honestly and it still hurts," I looked at the sad man's grey eyes. "I don't have anything personal like you. I still have my parents, and we have a decent house, but this place alway's looked sad to me. Everyone here is alway's sad, and it hurts me. I-I want to help out the best I can, Colt and the CCF are the best I can. I'm sorry if that doesn't make any sense."

"Nay. Don't be. It makes sense," Nathan Bellos half-muttered. "You're a good kid."

"And you're a good man, but you can't stay like this. Sad. Alone. Playing with your food. I don't know much about your son, but he fought until he couldn't fight anymore, I'm sure he would have wanted you to do the same?"

Nathan was a bit taken back by that bit, a little angry, a little confused, but his eyes aren't sad anymore. Not fully. No, I think he realized he could do more.

"I can't help out much here in the CCF. Also, how long do you think this place will last when Chamber's finally feel like it reeks of rebellion? Not long I reckon," he fretted. All he need's is a push.

"Chamber's a is a big meanie poop face. Also a dum-dum," I insulted childishly, making Nathan laugh at the unexpected way I put it. "We managed it this far, and we'll manage it later too. Colt and Paprika will make sure of it."

Nathan was silent at that. "Maybe."

"No maybe's. This place will stay," I stubbornly told the older man.

Nathan finally looked a bit more in peace at that, the highest bit of a smirk came on his face. "What are you? The poster child here?"

I shrugged. I think someone told me that a few days ago. "I don't know. Do you feel a little better now?"

"Just a bit."

That was enough. I helped someone. The rest is up to Nathan if he wants to farm all day and be depressed all his life, I don't want that for anyone, but I know when not to push it. I think that conversation was a month ago, I still talk to Nathan, he seemed to appreciate me trying to cheer him up, and he helps out sometimes. I think he'll be fine.

He'll be fine. The thought that that helped someone makes me feel more refreshed than ever been. CCF helps with that too.

Once Reaping Day is here, I jogged all the way the town square. It took me a while since I slept late, and ate breakfast, but I made it in time. Now, I'm here. In the square where Snow knows how many tributes that old man reaped in this particular spot. A wooden stage, a large office building behind it. I heard that there's a good view of the town around here along with the miles long wheat farms on top of that building. The town hall. I've alway's wondered what it's like to be a mayor.

A skinny capitolite with pale skin, purple-blue lips, and a green afro walked in front of the crowd of all us children. Her high heels were shiny blue, and her similar colored jacket look's like it belongs to a musician. The woman from last year, only happier, and looking more like Elvis Presley(Dad's a big fan of the old times musicals). The bigger than life lady waved at everyone.

"Hello District Nine! My name is Volora Rozan! Big time excited to be _here_! How about all of yall!?" The capitolite screeched out loud. To my surprise, a few clapped to her, unlike last year. Paprika winning must be it.

The higher class woman walked to the girl's bowl. "Alright girls and ladies! The lucky one here is a Lana Sanchi!"

An older girl came forward. Only slowly, at first I thought she was still shocked, but she wasn't. She was blind. She had a walking stick and sunglasses. Everyone looked miserable, even the usual jolly escort appeared saddened when Lana came to her direction clumsily. Everyone knows she's not going to make it.

I know she's not going to make. I know she's going to die.

And I can't let her.

"I volunteer for tribute!" I shouted out of the top of my lungs.

I sprinted right next to Lana, patted her in the back. "You'll be fine now."

She looked relieved and grateful, and I'm gladdened by it. She shouldn't go.

Volora was back at smiling again, aiming a microphone near me when I get in the stage next to her. "Alright! A girl with a heart of gold! What's your name, cutie pie?!"

"Daisy Grove, mam," I said to the escort politely. No reason to be rude, also I'm a little frightened.

The strange woman chuckled at that. "Give it up to Daisy Grove everyone!" I got a lot of claps surprising enough, but we had to move on. Volora walked to the left of the stage, where the bowl full of the boy's names is. "Now the boys! Ahem! Max Kanstine!"

For the first few seconds, no one came up, and it was then...

"I volunteer to take my brother's place in the Hunger Games!"

That sound's pretty explanatory, and pretty beautiful too. He had short messy blonde hair, blue eyes, clean white shirt with short sleeves and jeans. The brother who volunteered for Max ran forward with a cocky smirk on his face. I didn't like it. I don't get it either. He's thin, not all that muscular. He shouldn't be all that proud of himself.

Volora smirked. "Your name, sweetcheeks?"

My district partner smirked back. "Kalvin Kanstine."

"Neat," she said happily. She turned to the crowd. "You hear that District Nine! Two volunteers! Give it up to our brother and sister: Daisy Grove and Kalvin Kanstine!"

For most likely the first time, District Nine clapped at this announcement. Everyone cheered, but it wasn't like the career districts. It was more out of respect and hope. It makes me feel better about my decision, and Kalvin looked like he enjoyed the attention a bit too much. He blew a kiss at them for crying out loud. Did he honestly only volunteer for his brother?

I know why I volunteered. For a girl who needed me to, I saved Lana's life. Now, I got to say bye to mine.

"Why did you do it Daisy!? God, why!? My sweet little Daisy!?" my mother cried out the moment she hugged me, sobbing uncontrollably. She had blonde hair like me, but straighter and cleaner, mine is messier. I don't blame her for crying. I'm doing my best not to, however.

" _Why_ did you do sweetheart?" my father said more calmly, staying more in control of himself unlike mother, but the wet eyes meant he's holding back considerably.

That's a good question. "Because it's the right thing to do. You two alway's taught me to help others, to not be selfish. I did what I thought was right. I stay by that."

"Ah!" my mom was holding back a few tears, wanting to get something out. "We raised you well. We did, but now I think we did it a little _too well_."

Maybe. Dad said the same, but all of us cried, and they wished me in absolute confidence of any God out there to help me out. They eventually left, but then I had another guest.

A familiar brown-haired man came.

"Mister Colt!? What are you doing here?"

My boss had a wavering tired smile, but he tried to look optimistic. "I came up with a policy to visit any kid of any of my employee's in case they get reaped for the Hunger Games or in your case, my direct employee," he looked at me sternly. "What were you thinking Daisy?"

"I did the right thing. That's what," I said stubbornly.

"Daisy, I don't mean to come out like a..."

"Meanie face," I put in, knowing he'd curse. I think it's Paprika and her influence on that.

"Yeah that. You know, you're going to have to kill to survive, right? It's going to pretty."

I shook my head in disagreement. "I'm not going to kill anyone."

"Then chances are. You're not going to win," Colt said sadly.

"I can," I stated. "Claudio did. He didn't kill, and he won the Hunger Games."

I refuse to kill. I don't want to! It's wrong to do so, just like it's wrong to have the games in the first place! I know I had to fight or hurt someone, but I don't want to do that. I can't live with myself if I do. If some guy from Four made it, I can too.

"Claudio got lucky," Colt commented, winced with sadness. "I'm sorry Daisy. Many in CCF will be saddened when you go," he looked like he didn't know how else to say it. "You brighten up a lot of people. Wish we had more Daisy's in Panem. We'd probably be half-way to World Peace if there was."

He did look extremely saddened and uncomfortable by this. I decided something. "Just keep being good. Or try to be good, that's what I think. Mister Colt, can you do that? Keep being good. For everyone."

Colt nodded as if he was making a promise. "I'll try my best."

That's all it takes: to try. I'll try to win. I'll also try not to hurt anyone, okay.

I'll help anyone because that's the type of person I am. Even in the Hunger Games.

* * *

 **Kalvin Kanstine - District Nine Male**

* * *

"Kalvin. Are you sure we should be doing this?" my younger brother Max asked.

"Yeah, I am. Trust me, Max," I said with a disarming and mischievous smile. "I mean, when have I ever let us down?"

Max had a thoughtful expression, then shook his head. "Never, I guess?"

"That's right. Now, pass the brown dye bro."

I am a prankster, dam proud of it too. Never got caught, I learned from a very young age that people like money, and stealing money is an easy chore for me. That's what I am, a thief and a prankster. Not like I'd do actual work. I mean, I can do better than all those other poor bastards working in those endless fields of wheat.

Now, today's prank is to fool everyone in the CCD and get some free grub. I don't want to get Max and me in trouble, so we decided to disguise me, get as of those delicious sandwiches they have, and feel proud of me hoodwinking them.

Dressed in a dirty brown shirt, work pants, and even made my hair brown. Making me as plain as possible was the plan, I even had to change my blonde hair to brown. One of my best schemes yet, if not enjoyable.

"I'm going now," I addressed to Max. He had chubby cheeks, blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and well, he still has some baby fat on him, but he'll be a looker like me when he grows up. "Don't get in trouble while I'm gone."

"Ha. Don't worry about it," Max said. His smile didn't reach his eyes, which now that I think about it, he's been a little down recently. Great, does this I have to ask him later about his problems? _Ugh_ , that sound's emotionally exhausting.

When I got to the CCD building, I got in line, pretending to miserable like the rest of these losers. I went to the first line, where at the end of the line, there was this smoking hot redhead chick named Andrea, and of course, all those sandwiches. Those delicious ham sandwiches are mine now.

Then, I turned back where waited to ten minutes. Stashing the sandwiches to my hidden pockets, I progressed to the next line. I think I see a twelve-year-old at the end of it. I recognize her. She's semi-famous, all I hear is that she's the closest thing this district has to a literal angel, which I think people exaggerate.

"I hope you do well in the future sir," the poster-girl of this charity organization said with a cheery smile. She was short, a head smaller than me, and wore her hay-colored hair in pigtail styles. I think her name is Dais- Petunia? Primrose? Some kind of flower. At least she's not named after a bread.

Once she gave me a can of free soup, I gave her a little smile of my own. "You as well."

It took a moment for her to realize I was in Andrea's line. Now, it's my turn to leave.

"Wait a second. Didn't you already have your lunch?!"

I was already on my way the hell out. Good thing there's no peacekeeper's here.

"You'll never catch me alive!" I couldn't help but say that.

Maybe I should feel bad? Nah. I got free food! I successfully pulled my prank! I'm the best, I smirked with no small amount of pride. I got away from farmwork the moment I heard of it, for at least all of my life. I never got caught, maybe it's luck, but who gives a dam, I won once more!

I saw my brother, sitting on a bench, and playing the stolen old fashioned small handheld gaming device. I sat next to him.

"You got those sandwiches?" Max asked curiously. I took the zip-locked sandwich out of my pocket, showed it off while grinning like punk and throwing it to him. Max caught it just in time and checked it. "Umm, ham."

"Your welcome, little bro," I said. Someone has to take care of the only family I have left.

Max and me, both of us are orphans. We never knew our parents, only that both of us were brothers and left in an orphanage. A shitty orphanage with shitty food, and when both of us were forced by the matron to harvest the crops for the factories... and I did not do that. I'm a little lazy, and I like to avoid much work as possible. Hate getting my hands dirty.

So, I made a decision. We don't work, me and Max, and avoid it. We steal, we prank because it's fun, and we don't get caught. It's fun when you're as smart as me, and Max has been my accomplice since forever. My little shadow, I taught the happy little guy everything I know.

Or at least Max should be happy. I view my brother from my side, seeing a thoughtfully sad look on his face.

I groaned. "Okay, what's wrong?"

Max looked away from his sandwich and turned to me. "Nothing."

"Come on Max. You're obviously down about something, talk to me, bro."

"It's about the factory," he croaked.

Oh yeah. I laughed. "Yeah, that was a fun prank."

"You _burned_ it down!" Max exclaimed with uncharacteristic sudden anger.

I flinched at the outburst and waved my hand. "Sheesh bro, tone it down. And since when was it a problem? You were there with me, in case you forgot."

"We went too far. _You_ went too far on some 'prank' Kalvin. People lost jobs because of us," Max explained mournfully.

I rolled my eyes. "And? What does that matter to us? It's not like those farmers would ever lift a finger to help us. Stop being so dramatic."

"And stealing from the CCD? Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure we could have gotten the food for free."

"Maybe? But, we got extra rations that'll last us longer. Stop being such a sourpuss. It's pissing me off," I told him. "Stick with being that cheery little shadow we all love." He didn't like that. I sighed. "Fine, I promise not to do something like that again. Better."

He nodded. "Yeah. It is," he then smiled like he alway's does. "Wanna egg the mayor's house?"

Oh, I agreed readily to that. We both laughed when we did. What a waste of egg's now that I think about it.

The mayor, when I saw him on the platform, looked suspiciously at every kid in front of him, and next to him was Paprika Riverbreath. She's hot, you know, in a tomboy kind of way.

"Alright girls and ladies! The lucky one here is a Lana Sanchi!" the weirdly dressed escort Volora cried out the girl's name.

Once I got a closer look at the girl, I noticed she was blind. Yeah, she's not going to survive.

"I volunteer for tribute!" One small familiar girl ran forward. It was that poster girl, and I noticed that a lot of other's are looking downcast and saddened by the pigtailed child.

Volora gave the microphone to the small one. "Alright! A girl with a heart of gold! What's your name, cutie pie?!"

"Daisy Grove, mam," she answered nicely.

Volora, the Elvis looking lady, chuckled at that. "Give it up to Daisy Grove everyone!"

For once in my life, I saw other's cheering for a tribute during the Reaping. Guess she's popular.

Volora walked to the left of the stage, where the bowl full of the boy's names is. "Now the boys! Ahem! Max Kanstine!"

Oh, you have got to be- I looked at my little brother next to me. Max, the only family I had left, the brother I took care of since we were both reaching maturity at childhood. Huh, he's going to the Games. He's going to claim glory. He's going to be more famous than me. I can't allow that to happen.

"I volunteer to take my brother's place in the Hunger Games!" I called out. I put on smirk on my face. Hey, if a thirteen-year-old could look confident, so can I. When I passed Max, he looked more shell-shocked than he already was, and... hurt?

The Elvis looking lady asked with a smirk. "Your name, sweetcheeks?"

I smirked back. "Kalvin Kanstine."

"Neat," she said happily to me. She turned to the crowd. "You hear that District Nine! Two volunteers! Give it up to our brother and sister: Daisy Grove and Kalvin Kanstine!"

Huh, it came to a deep surprise to me that more cheered for us. I felt nice. I waved at the crowd.

It didn't take very long until I was brought to the Justice Building. Of course, there's only one person who'd come to visit me.

That would be my tear-streaming little brother. He's crying a lot.

And he kept on crying.

"Max. You think you can stop now," I demanded. "It's getting annoying."

"Y-y-you're, this is so-," Max spasmed through his words. "I h-hate this. This i-isn't f-f-fair!"

"Yeah," I agreed numbly. "Look Max we don't have a lot of time left. So, I don't know. You got anything to say."

"I do. I do," my little brother calmed himself, getting some wet water out of his cheeks. "What's wrong with you? You didn't have to volunteer."

"Of course I did, I'm the older brother here," I pointed at myself, then at Max. "You get yourself ready. I'll be gone for a while. So take care of yourself the best you can."

"Yeah," Max muttered, looking like the only fully realized everything now. "It's all my fault, isn't it?"

What did I hear him say? Is he? No, he shouldn't.

I opened my mouth, but the peacekeepers came by. "This meeting's time is over. He has to leave."

"What? Now!?" I screamed out loud. Only now having wet liquid out of my eyes.

The peacekeeper's had Max by the shoulder. They were taking him away from me.

"It's not your fault Max! It's not your fault!" I said as loud as possible. That was all I could've said before the peacekeeper's closed the door.

I'm alone now, aren't I?

Well, I better make some friends. Yeah, that's a good plan. Then, I backstab them. That's a good plan. I blinked. Man, I accepted that easily, maybe I do have a problem.

* * *

 **A/N: It's been a month since I uploaded! Wish I could've done so sooner. To District Nine! To the angel Daisy Grave and the trickster Kalvin Kanstine! My _moa,_ and _DrOcten(were ever he/she is)._ So yeah, 2k views. Not bad at all. And thank you for the past reviewers _LiveFreeOrDie_ , _District5Ravenclaw_ , and everyone else. Hopefully, I'll see a review from you guys.**


	12. Chapter 10: Twins

**Chapter 10: Twins**

 **District Ten Reaping**

* * *

 **Doe Maryn Adler - District Ten Female**

* * *

"Twins: _Two unique souls united by birth._ "

-Unknown Author.

* * *

I hope Buck is alright. Only I know he isn't, deep down.

Dad doesn't have to do what he does to my brother. He doesn't. It's cruel. It's unnecessary.

Shaking my head, I looked out of the window. Seeing the large tract of land that contains barns and animals, all of that belongs to my father. Some would be jealous that I got born with such wealth(at least, in this district's standards), but I would give it away, being born with money, as long as Buck is free from father puts him through.

 _It's not fair. It wasn't Buck's fault_ , I thought sorrowfully. _It was never his fault dad._

My father, Thomas Adler, an upper-class rancher, his blonde beard and sharp brown eyes were prestained as his cowboy boss getup that's popular for the affluent in the district, walked on in the large house we lived in as if nothing happened. I was staring at my father, his eyes hard and hateful. Father turned his head my way, noticing me, instantly wiping out that look, giving a wide reassuring smile that I couldn't help but flinch.

"Princess! How was school today?" Father asked me once he got close. "You did well in class, didn't you?"

I nodded, frowning. "I did." I eyed my father carefully, wanting to say something that's not about me. "Buck did well, too?"

Father needed to remember that I'm not the only child he has that goes to the Academy. My twin, Buck goes their too. It took a lot of convincing and patience in my part to persuade dad for Buck to join the school with me. He didn't like, no, he _never_ likes it when Buck is a topic of the conversation.

Dad breathed angrily in and then out, trying to stay cool in front of me, his sweet darling princess. "Doe. What did I say about bringing up that _monster_?"

"He's doing better in his classes, trying to prove that he's worth your money," I said to him. I hate talking like this. It's not fair how Buck is, but dad can't seem to understand. "He should be rewarded. You know. For good behavior."

"You are far too kind, princess," dad remarked with his tone a scolding one. "That thing doesn't even deserve it. You know what he to your mother. He can not have any kindness."

 _That thing is your son, my twin brother._ I wanted to say that, but it won't have any effect on dad. If I couldn't convince him to change his ways all those years ago, how can I know? It's not even Buck's fault! Well, it is, but it's also mine. We were both in the same womb, and dad blame's mom's death on Buck since he was born later than me, but I had a part in it too. Mom couldn't handle giving birth to two children, me being one of them.

Buck doesn't deserve to suffer for being born after me.

Dad saw the plate filled with on the table. "Why didn't you finish your dinner? You know the chef work's hard on it."

I hate this feeling more, the guilt, knowing that dad's spoiling me. That I get everything, and Buck gets nothing. Not fair.

How can I eat when you're hurting my twin, dad?

"Sir, we have a problem!" a farmhand came out the door. He was a dirt-covered person, like most in this district, and I can't say I remember him particularly. "Some bunch of thieves stole a couple the horse's ser! And a few of the other animals got loss!"

"Dam it," dad muttered, he looked me in the eyes. "Eat some dinner princess. Papa has some stragglers to deal with."

With that, he left, taking care of his merchandise. For all his cruelty to Buck, he does care about me. Not sure if it's a good or bad thing.

Now's not the time for dad. I walked to the table, seeing the expensive looking dish filled with mashed potatoes, green beans, a lot of salad. I picked that up, then moved to the fridge, where there's a large bag of ice and picked that up as well. It's not that heavy, thankfully. There's only so much a small girl like me can carry.

As soon as I got the item's I needed, I headed to the barn that's near my house. It's were all Buck rest's, also where dad keeps his prized horses. Those horses are more of a concern for dad sadly.

A clanky cowbell noise was ringing loudly from inside the barn.

I know that sound. It's my brother's funny way of calling me.

The door's of the barn house opened up once pulled it, and then I saw my brother.

My bleeding brother. On the other side of the barn, leaning on the wall, and despite all those bruises on him. He's breathing hard, his lips are busted, and he has small patches of blood on his shoulders. That doesn't look good at all.

It's not fair. No, it's not. Life is like this. We have to be used to it. I have to be used to dad hurting my brother. I will _never_ like getting used to it, but this is how it is always is.

Buck gets hurt.

And I take care of the aftermath.

He smiled once he saw me.

"Good morning Doe," Buck greeted, then turned to hide a cough. Hiding it to make me worry less isn't working. It's making me worry more. My twin noticed the food. "What do you got for me, sis?"

I see what he's doing. I walked up to my blond twin. It's weird, how he got most of dad's looks and I got mom's. Maybe that's why dad never hurts me. That mom's brown eyes and auburn mane she passed onto me remind him of the love of his life. Alway's wondered if dad would be nicer to Buck if he didn't have blue eyes and that wild blonde hair he has.

Walking closer to him, I put my hand on his head. He was far too warm again. "Buck, lay down," I told him.

"Can't I eat first?" he whined, an attempt at humor. Not that I don't appreciate it, but his health is more important.

"No," I put the dish of food down, and pushed the pack of ice next to Buck lightly. He was already looking relieved from the cold. "Now, let me look into you alright? No backtalk and no jokes. Not now."

Buck nodded, losing that false humor in his face.

I got a medical pack hidden under the hay nearby. A necessary precession, since the father tends to not be _peaceful_ with Buck. Bandages, healing cream, and cotton balls. A box I packed just for Buck. For more than once.

Touching his arms, the first thing I noticed was that his right was bent slightly wrong. "Your arm is dislocated," I informed.

"Oh," his eyes went to the arm. "You know what to do."

"I learned medicine for a reason," I commented. "Stay still."

Once I positioned myself, I set the arm as it should be, and so a _popping_ noise was heard.

Buck seethed in pain. "Fuck," he blurted.

I'd say watch your language, but I believe that cuss was warranted. Anyway, I needed to get the cotton balls and apply with the healing cream, making him wince every time it touched his bruises, but he doesn't complain or whine about it, he never does. He's tough. Buck has to be.

"You can eat now," I told him kindly. He deserves it, more than I do.

Buck licked his lips when he looked at the food there. Thought better of something, he turned to me. "What about you? Did you eat anything?"

"I'm fine," I reassured him. Dam it, he's not supposed to be worried about me, it's the other way around.

"You sure. You need a little meat in your muscles, you know. Doe, you're the closest thing to a stick person I know," Buck said concernedly, perhaps he's feeling the need to repay me, or he's getting extra worried because of the Reaping that's coming soon. I mean, sure, I'm not the most healthy, and Buck has much more muscles from all the work dad forces him to do, but I'm not that thin.

I huffed, crossing my arms. Thank you comedic but crappy sitcoms. "Eat your dinner young man, so one day you'll grow up and be a strong man. You need all the energy and protein you can have."

"Yes, _mom_ ," he said, rolling his eyes. He knows better than to argue with me.

Once he gave put some salad in his mouth, he's growing more appreciate. Eating without many manners, he gobbled the meat like a dog, but he saw my gaze and hesitantly used a fork and knife.

I looked at Buck in the eyes. "I've been learning about herbs at school. Also, a bit about hunting."

He knew what that meant. He swallowed whatever he had.

"So, we're finally leaving," Buck said hopefully. "We talked a lot about this, getting out of _Thomas's_ farm," he refuses to say the word, dad, not that I blame him. "What are we even going to do when we get out of here?

Good question.

"Healing isn't the only thing I've been learning," I answered. "I thought that maybe I could be a vet's assistant, or perhaps a nurse. After that, I could be a doctor, you know," It's a dream of mine, and Buck knows it, but if I could be Buck, maybe I could help others too. "They seem like practical jobs."

"You'd make a great doctor," Buck complimented with a smile, which eventually turned strained. "I guess I'll be a work hand somewhere. Seem's to be the only thing I'm good for."

That isn't what I like hearing. "Buck, don't say that. You're smart in school, you can do better than what dad," he scowled at that, but for all of their progenitor's faults, he is a good dad to me, even Buck can't question that. "wanted you to do all your life. We can get some money and put you back to school."

"Where are we going to get the money?"

I shifted my eyes elsewhere. "Well, dad doesn't need all his money?"

"Oh, we're stealing from him," Buck said amusingly. " _Nice_."

"Not nice," I told him. "Stealing isn't a good thing. And I don't resort to it unless we absolutely need to."

"It's Thomas. He deserves more than a little theft on his part," he said angrily.

That's not how this conversation. Dad, dad's broken. He doesn't know what he's doing, and he's broken Buck too. My twin wouldn't harm me, he'd never do that, but that doesn't mean he won't harm others. Buck gets angered easily by others who pick on him, and he fights back hard. I'm not a mental health person, but I maybe I could help with both Thomas and Buck one day. It's a hopeful dream.

I stretched my arm and put it on his shoulder, the farther side. I put my back against the wall, and put my head on his shoulder. Both of us were watching the clouds out the barn door. "I know, Buck. I know, but you're better than that, right?"

Buck didn't say anything for a few seconds before he said, "Sure."

He hesitated. I noticed but didn't say anything. Buck is my brother. _My twin_. I'll be with every step of the way.

* * *

 **Buck Hyde Adler - District Ten Male**

* * *

I know that Doe worries about me constantly. I hope she doesn't worry more she has too. I'm fine. Most of the time.

Who knows why Thomas act's the way he does? Some people are screwed up in the head, and it's not like I can't handle whatever that old bastard throws at me. So far, my life consists of work, Thomas beating me, and going to school where I either learn(because Doe asks me) or beat up other students(because they were making fun of Doe). It's simple. It's how I go about my day.

Usual shitty.

"Come on Bucky! We have to get to the Reaping quickly!" Doe said while pulled my hands, walking quickly.

She's the only thing that keeps it from my life being hell.

"No rush Doe, we'll make it," I promised, hoping that'll do something to calm her nerves.

Doe shook her head. "I heard a rumor from Mane that being the last mean's that the Capitol will notice us, and probably be likely to be reaped."

"That can't be true. It's all at random," I pointed out with a jealous tone. I don't particularly care for Doe's 'best friend' Mare. That ditzy girl is probably only hanging out with Doe out of pity, which disgusts me. I don't see Mane very much, but when we do meet at school, Mare looks at _me_ with pity. Her concern means nothing if she can't stop Thomas, which she won't. It's not her problem.

"I don't want to risk it," Doe said not unkindly. "The Capitol is unpredictable, you know."

"I guess," I replied, unconvinced. She's not wrong, but what are the chances we're going to get reaped? One out of a billion, that's what.

Doe kept a tight hold of my hand and speed walked anyway. She's alway's so concerned over me, alway's so caring. She's perfect, and I'll make sure she's never harmed.

I also liked holding onto her, my twin is like a human ice pack. Usually, I'm overheated. Hell, this week I passed out heat exhaustion rather than dad, but it's alright. I have Doe to take care of me.

For the most part, I'm glad she was born first. I don't think she could've handled dad's treatment if she was in my place.

Can't wait to escape with her. Far away from my genitor Thomas.

The town hall was there when we got in. The peacekeepers checked our blood and told us to move to our respected spots. Nothing new.

Our mayor talked. A lot, and I yawned a lot too. Then he invited our dead-eyed escort. Didn't pay any attention to his name.

The black-haired, dead-eyed man walked to the girl's bowl.

"Doe Adler. Is there a Doe Adler somewhere?" the dull escort said without any emotion. As if he was completely dead inside.

Then I processed what just happened. Denial set in, but then I saw my shaken twin walk forward.

I need to throw up! I need to throw up! This can't be happening!

"Alright, let's move on to the boy's section. Everyone okay with that, Okay," the escort said blandly. How could he be so fucking stoic about this!?

There is only one possible idea that came to mind.

"I volunteer for tribute!"

What else was I going to do? I can't do anything without Doe.

My sister was paler than usual when she was me pushing other's out of the way, practically running to her. I ran and gave her a much-needed embrace.

"Wow. A volunteer," the annoying escort said, I'm not sure if that's sarcasm or that's just his voice anymore. "Yeppers. As a volunteer, you have to give out your name, young man?

I glared at him, no effect really, but I got the microphone on his hand and said my name. "Buck Adler!"

"There you have it, folks. Doe and Buck from District Ten. May the odds ever be in their favor. Okay, now go to work. Or torture, as President Chambers once said," the escort announced? Joked? Informed(that could work two ways)? Did he really just say that? The fuck is wrong with him?

Both of us were sent to the Justice Building.

I waited.

In hindsight, I should've expected no one other than Doe would come for me. But she can't visit.

"Hey, Buck," a feminine voice appeared out of nowhere. "Hey, I'm Mare. Not sure if you remember me? I'm Doe's friend from school."

"I do," I said awkwardly. What's she doing here? She ain't my friend.

She rubbed her hands nervously. "Yeah, I know we weren't close, but I figured you needed at least one visitor. Since your dad isn't-"

"Don't call him that!" I screamed at her, surprising her. Thomas has no right to be called that.

Mare bit her lips. "Right, sorry. Sorry," she apologized, a little confused. Good, she should be. "I talked to Doe. You know, she's still concerned over you. Even now. And you are as well."

"Siblings alway's look out of one another," I told her.

Mane nodded sadly. "Yeah, I told her that you'll be looking out for her. And you know what she said."

"I can imagine."

"Doe started crying and said: 'but what about my brother? Who's going to protect him?'. She's real sweet like that, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is," I agreed.

Mane had an unexpected move against me, which was to hug me. It was a bit awkward. Nobody but Doe ever hugged me. "Protect Doe. Your the only one who can."

Not sure what to say. I guess I was wrong about her. Mare is a good friend.

"Of course I will."

The peacekeepers are calling her out.

"You know. Both you and Doe can come back. Double Victors have happened before. You can come out too," Mare said while heading out the door, leaving with that for me to think about.

Yeah, double victors happened before. Katniss and Peeta being the first, and those two siblings from the centennial quarter quell.

It's been a while, but it's possible. Doe and I could come back.

Whatever the case, I'm going to protect Doe. No matter what.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow. District Ten for the Twins! Doe and Buck Adler everybody! I know I'm kinda late now. So, expect it! Thank you _curiousclove_ for these two wonderful dynamic characters. Seriously, they are going to spice things up!**

 **Thank you for reading readers!**


	13. Chapter 11: Motivated Perfection

**Chapter 11: Motivated Perfection**

 **District Eleven Reaping**

* * *

 **Cristian Moldovan - District Eleven Male**

* * *

 _"Looking for perfection is the only way to motivate yourself,_ _"_

\- Ronnie O'Sullivan

* * *

District Eleven used to be a shit hole, it still is for some, but it got better.

To survive the district, you have to live by the rules. You have to keep your head down, that's the family motto. It's how one in Eleven could survive, but that's a rule everywhere, is what I'd like to think. This district has alway's been having a hard time, with the peacekeepers that keep on telling us what to do, and how the law dictates what to farm and do every single day.

At least, that's what grandpa used to say before he passed away.

Maybe, that's because the district still had its rebellious moments back at the time. That's time is over and done with, but it's not like the Capitol will ever let us forget.

"Keep working, Eleven!" a nearby peacekeeper ordered me. I didn't look at him, keeping on pulling a large wagon of blueberries behind me. The white armored man walked passed me, not even looking at me, but he knows that I can't do anything to him.

Okay, I lied. Eleven is still a shithole.

This district has it the worst. That's something everyone agrees. The peacekeepers tend to be merciless, whether others follow the law or don't.

"Eleven," the peacekeeper turned back, apparently deciding something randomly.

"Yes, sir."

"You're that Moldovan kid? The rat," the keeper didn't sound disgusted when he said that, but then again, peacekeepers are good with their poker face if nothing else. The slang pisses me off, but what am I supposed to do? _Fight_ _him_. Beside's, it was what I was. Not that I'll say it like that.

I looked around, seeing no one close, I nodded. "I'd appreciate you not saying it if anyone was nearby. Better know one get's any ideas."

"I suppose," the tall frightening(when aren't they?) peacekeeper agrees. "In any chance, you are needed for information once more."

"Alway's willing to help," I claimed, smiling falsely. Somehow, that worked.

"Wish there we other's as agreeable," the peacekeeper said. "On the matter, it would appear that when a group of my coworker's where playing a card game, the betting money disappeared. Do you any information on who the thief is? Or in any case, where the money is?"

Looking thoughtful, another false gesture, but it works. "I believe there was this Leonardo Gnoza. A thief, you can tell by his lashes. He alway's bragged about stealing from peacekeepers without you all-knowing. He was usually silent from doing so this year, but chances are, it's him."

The peacekeeper nodded, accepting it, or at least, determined it's worth is time. He must have bet a lot of money in that card game to care so much. "Good, Moldovan. Keep up the work. And remember, Panem is watching."

He went on forward on the dirt road we're using. I went to deposit. So, I'm a snitch, well, more like a liar.

I checked in my wagon of blueberries and found a large pouch of money. Yeah, it was me. Big Liar, that's me. Not my fault people are so easy to trick.

It's hard not to grin. Cash is alway's hard to come by, and I'm getting away with it. Well, I'm not a complete asshole, I'm sharing a quarter of it to my family. Too bad about Leo, he alway's said he would change and never steal again. He's going to get punished, but that was the plan. The only person I should look out for is myself. Can't give too much thought about Leo.

The rest of the day went simple, I hid the money, made jokes to my familiar neighbors who smiled, and I put the blueberries at the depot. Yep, all in the day's work for me.

Then I went back home.

"Austin! You ruined my hair, you asshole!" Tia, my silly little sister, still a little dim and concerned over her looks. We both look different from each other, she has lighter skin, blue eyes that don't match my brown. Alway's gets what she wants since she's our parent's little _angel_. Ha, the boon of being the only sister.

"Listen to her Austin, before you both get to a fight again," Mika, the oldest sibling. He's the serious one of us. That scar under his eye only makes him look grimmer, and kinda like a badass. If only I didn't know that he got that scar from a squirrel, I'd take him more seriously.

"Hell no!" Austin, the second child, the prankster of the family. He never takes anything seriously. "Ain't my fault she can't see a tripwire. Why don't you blame Ty for not warning you?"

Ty, Tia's twin brother, look exactly that same but he has a bigger nose. He was currently hiding it with a book he was reading. "Tia should have been able to figure it out herself. Not my fault she couldn't," he retorted. Ty was alway's a bit of a smartass. And well, it's kinda deserving, seeing that he's the only one capable of going to school.

All my _wonderful_ siblings had stopped their chatter when they saw me.

What? Are they still angry at my master plan? Pointless of them, I'm earning a good living while they work their hardest in this unforgivable and ungrateful district.

Of course, the first sibling to notice me was the youngest in the family, Kyle. That little turd. "Cristian! Cristian! Cristian!"

I almost glowered at the little bastard who took my place as my parent's favorite(Tia doesn't count). I used to be the youngest, getting all the attention, but then Kyle took that.

It makes me wish I never ask for a younger brother.

"Hey, Kyle. What's going on?" I said, pretending to be interested. Using that perfect false smile that fools everyone.

"Darts," the turd squealed, showing that he indeed had darts in his hands. "Austin found it. He also found a poser to practice on."

"Poser?" I asked, confused by this.

Kyle pointed at the end of the wall. There was a poster with a few holes the size of dart pins.

"You mean, poster," I corrected. _Dumbass_ , I thought.

Kyle nodded along. "Austin said it's practice!"

The poster in question is a propaganda kind from the Capitol. Not only that, but it shows a person of undeniable fear here in the district. Farrow Gardener, the first Victor, and one of the Capitol's most prized and symbolic figures they have. For the Capitol Farrow is a hero, to us, he's a murderer, a puppet, and scum. Now, I don't hate him personally(being alive way before my time), but he's still someone the Capitol want's to show off, and those stories about him are almost as bad as President Snow.

Farrow is hated and will always be hated by the outliner districts, for siding with the Capitol and killing rebels and their families.

"Sure," I said. "Give me a dart. Better this than listening in whatever the hell they're on about."

Kyle nodded mechanically, happy that someone joined his little game. What a simple little creature my brother is.

The dart was in my hands, and the poster was the target. I aimed, pulling my hand back a little, and threw it.

It landed right next to the poster.

"That could have been better," the turd commented, snickering. Kyle shouldn't have done that.

"Go get the dart for me, will you?" I asked evenly. I wanted to smash his little face right then and there. _So_ , so much so. But I knew better. None off my siblings would like that, and my parents would freak out. It's obvious who they care for more.

When Kyle went, I put my foot in front of his feet firmly in place. He tripped.

There was some satisfaction when the little shit fell to the ground.

Was I cruel? Was I mean for doing so?

Kyle was crying. I wish he could do something more than that. Beside's, the family will get a bandaid or something for him. Quite frankly, I don't have any love for my family. Not much, it's an ambition of mine to leave when I'm ready. I got loads of cash hidden in the basement(a secret locked box no one bother's to open), and I'll go wherever.

Somewhere where I'll be respected. Snow knows I won't get any from this family.

Somewhere where I'll be _perfect_.

* * *

 **Calliope Germain - District Eleven Female**

* * *

"Please tell me you're not volunteering Cal," Thea Everest addressed, concern deep in her voice. "I know you said you wouldn't, but well, your father said you are."

I sighed, resting my head between my arms. I'm in Thea's mansion, specifically, in her nice living room. Her dinner table is where I usually go after my morning exercises. It's a routine I've been doing since I was five, someone my dad wanted me to be doing. Despite how tiring it was, I have to say- I got some _muscles_ on me. This isn't what a normal kid in District Eleven would do(or have the luxury), but having a Victor as a dad helps.

"Of course not," I answered to Thea, a Victor as well. She was walking towards me with a nice cool drink of lemonade in her hands. "Thanks, Thea."

"No sweat, little Cal," the 161st Victor said. She's a head shorter than me. Same brownish dark skin, but her eyes are nut-brown while mine are grey. She also has a dark curly afro while I like my hair in a ponytail style. Thea was alway's there for me after my training routine, and it's nice to have her. She's like the big sister I never had. "So..., I take it you haven't told old Levie about not volunteering."

"No, I didn't. You know how dad is. He's been always so, what's the word? Fragile, I guess," I supposed. Dad and his high expectations, it's always haunted me, but I can't let his expectations of me go to the _Hunger Games_ of all things. "I don't know how to break it to him. He's been training me, wasting a lot of his time to make me into something, but now, maybe even a long time ago, I realize that I can't bet my life on my dad's dumb dream."

Thea hummed, drinking her glass of water. "Sound's complicated," she summed up. "Yeah, your dad was alway's a weirdo. I've been telling him, not just me, but possibly everyone around him to stop getting you killed, but I'm pretty sure the only person who can stop him from dreaming is you. How did he take it?"

Certain words came to mind when I told about my father of my decision.

 _"You! You disgrace! Get out of here! Get out!"_

I was downcasted by this, mostly because I don't want to be that person. I don't want to disappoint or anger my dad. I don't.

"He didn't take it well," I told Thea. Sadness shown in her eyes.

It's just that, mom's death, it made him fear for my life. Dad trained me after that, hoping I'll be more prepared for the Hunger Games than he ever was. To keep me safe, but then we got the idea that he could make me his legacy. He's got his mind all wrapped and thinks he can train me to be _in_ the HG, instead of preparing me for it. Almost like a career.

Thea slammed on her hands on the dinner table. "Oh my god, whatever. We'll get there when we get there. Enough that stubborn mule you call a father," Thea has a slow grin growing on her lips. "Tell me, any progress with Laine."

The groan came instinctively. "Thea! It's not like that! I'd rather kiss Snow's ass than go through this conversation again."

"What's wrong? Come on, both you and Liana went to my party two nights ago. Maybe I was a little drunk, but I think I saw the two of you making out."

"Yeah, you _think_ ," I mewled, feeling my face heat up a bit. "We left that party about half the of everyone got around topless. Nothing happened, other than my best friend who now thinks your the worst dancer in Eleven."

"Only when I'm wasted," Thea countered with a smile and then losing it. "Also, I'm disappointed in you Cal. Seriously, it's so obvious by the amount of time you spent with each other that you two would be a great couple."

"Just stop already," I said, can't help but be embarrassed by this. "Is this what Paprika feel's when the media keeps thinking her and that Colt guy are a thing? Thea, Liane has been my friend since pre-school. She's, well, she's not like that."

"I didn't hear a no there Cal," Thea sang, annoyingly.

"Aren't all Victor's supposed to be depressed assholes?" I murmured, wondering honestly, how Thea escaped the arena at all, but that seems rude to ask.

"Not me, squirt," she teased. "I'm a party gal. I don't worry about the HG. That's in the past, and I can do better than be sad."

I nodded absently, drinking my lemonade. It's nice to talk about things, important things I can get my mind off. The only ones I can have a real talk with is Thea and Liane.

A doorbell rang. Speaking of a certain devil...

"Your girlfriends here," Thea observed, getting that drink, sipping, and hiding that _damnable_ smirk.

I playfully glared by my pseudo-big sister and got off my seat, "See you at the Reaping."

"Later," she waved.

Liana Britt was outside. She was the size of Thea, but she had a slender body, light brown eyes, and unique blue eyes. She looked ready to go on a little run with me. Got nothing else the two of us could be doing, so Liana joins with my exercises sometimes.

"So hows Thea?" Liana asked.

"She's good so far. Making jokes at my expense. The usual with her," I answered as best I can, there's no need to bring up the teasing.

The girl across has been with since we were nothing more than a bunch of nervous pre-schoolers. High school, and other things, and perhaps, there's a tiny little fraction of me that is attracted to her personality. She's so carefree, and it's nice to see that. Always telling me what she thinks, and not being scared of my little wannabee status as Victor's daughter.

My best friend had this pretty smile on her face, "What kind of jokes was she making?"

 _About our relation status_ , I thought embarrassingly. Instead, I said, "You know. Party stuff. Crappy puns. Stuff like that."

Liana sniffed. "That can't be all."

"Other stuff too, but it's not important," I told her.

"Oh _really_? Nothing? Nothing at all."

She's being awfully suggestive. "What are you talking about?"

"You know... at the party," Liana smiled deviously. "We kissed."

I somehow choked on air. I was not expecting her to come out like that. There was this small chance she wouldn't bring it up and we'd never talk about it again.

"Yeah..." I started awkwardly, then chuckled. "We sure did. Got off drunk as hell."

Liana was somehow not effected, she seems so nonchalant about it while I'm feeling weird.

"After the Reaping, do you want to go on a date?" Liana asked me suddenly.

...

...

"What?"

Liana shrugged of my gobstruck look. "Yeah, I was thinking about this for a while. I think I have feelings for you and I think now that our reaping hell is over, I could work out whatever I feel for you," she pointed a finger at me and to her while saying this. "So, what do you say?"

So all I had to do was get drunk for this to happen? No wonder Thea is so happy all that time.

"I'd love to."

Things were looking up.

* * *

 **Jessamen 'Jess' Meadow - District Eleven Escort**

* * *

District Eleven. Three years and I still can't get used to the smell around here.

This District has been doing well since the end of the first century. I've been told stories about how Eleven's were whipped all the time and only Twelve could match it when it comes to the level of poverty.

"Hello everyone!" I cried out, having a microphone to my face looking at the crowd of sullen faces in front of me with a practiced smile.

Nobody wants to be here. I don't want to be here, either. This is cruel. This is inhumane and President Chambers should be ashamed of himself.

"This is the 172nd Hunger Games. It's been a long tradition of Panem to host one every year," I say. Nothing will change if I make some silly speech, everyone will still be sad.

There should

"So, I'd like to make congratulations to District Eleven and it's ten victors!"

At that, there was a slight surprise from everyone at the change of course. _There's only so much hopelessness from these Games_ , I thought. May as well give some new hope.

"Starting with the eldest Victor from seventy years ago: Malcolm Ravender!"

A white-haired man of the age of eighty-eight - doesn't look a day over fifty - stared at the crowd blankly, but waved nevertheless. Some of the crows waved back hesitantly.

The air felt as if it won't suffocate me anymore. Let's continue with the rest.

"Next up is the three back to back victors, starting with: Safi Fled!

The wise old female with the greying ponytail smiled, nodding to the crowd.

"Old grouchy Salamander Schrader!"

The taller robust tough-looking growled at me but went back to his neutral face. He waved.

"The charismatic Locket Cross!"

The good looking victor grinned, still handsome despite his old age, and waved at the crowd with more motion than his fellow victors.

"Next up is the heart of District 11 and I'm sure we've all been in her therapy sessions: Hope Natoma!"

For once, the waves seemed more real when the glasses-wearing kind exotic female waved to them. One of the more popular victors in the District for more reasons than her psychology degree.

"Now we all know about the 146th Hunger Games, don't we! Give it up to our famed married co-victors: Graham Lucro and Gabriela Spot!

The lanky woman with a scar on her face and an obese bearded man looked at one another, took each other hands and waved. Didn't that get the crowd to smile a little! I mean, their victory rivals Katniss and Peeta no doubt.

"And remember Lev German, er, _Germaine_ everyone! He's a victor!"

Shit, I kinda forgot about the guy. The muscular victor had an unfriendly look on his face, most definitely annoyed by me. He wasn't exactly the most memorable victor, no offense. He simple followed some careers and won in the end. He's not friendly, to begin with, now that I think about it.

"Now to our previous Quarter Quell winner. The ultimate survivor: Shayda Thando!"

The nervous woman didn't wave to anyone, but she gave a quick shaky smile. A nearly ordinary woman with average features with the only expectation being a robot eye. Not someone you'd expect to win in an arena with ninety-six tributes.

"And finally, the party animal everyone loves: Thea Everest!"

Thea had some actual cheering, and she waved to them as they smiled, waving back. The youngest victor parties must have done good for the morale of this district.

District Eleven isn't the moody place it's been anymore. I mean, they have ten victors! This century has been better for them than the first. Hell, they have more victors here than any other outer district. At the very least, less of the Elevens stopped glaring at her.

"Now, let's get on and hope we'll get another victor to join these fine examples!" I finished cheering and walked to the girl's bowl. The smiling stopped, noticeably.

I took out a small piece of parchment for the glass bowl, reading the poor girl's name before saying it to the crowd.

"Liana Britt!"

Silence came as expected.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Well, shit. I can't say I was expecting it. I mean, maybe one day, but _today_. Never mind, I don't know when to expect someone actually trying to join a death game. This isn't a career district(however, this outer district is possibly the closest to it) and no one has to volunteer.

It never ends well, as I saw three times behind the scenes of the Hunger Games. My job quickly filled me with dread after the first year.

My eyes traveled to the confident girl walking forward with unblinking gray eyes, brown hair made into a ponytail. She's tall, pretty, and I see that she has muscles. She's practically career material!

She came up to the stage and said her name, "Calliope Germaine," the volunteer turned to the crowd and smiled as if trying to reassure someone. "And District Eleven is going to have another victor soon."

For the first time, there was cheering. This girl had a good confident thing for her, and it's not hard to see becoming a favorite.

Wait, her name.

I looked at the unnoticeable victor who I now believe is her father. Lev Germaine had a poker face, no showing anything to anyone. Usually, some parents cry or scream in anger. He's not going anything. Strange.

Feeling a sudden surge of confidence I haven't felt in two years, I walked to the opposite glass bowl and picked up a slip of paper.

"Now onto the boys! Ahem, give it up for Cristian Moldovan!"

"NO!"

I suddenly see a small boy hugging a taller one who was going to walk forward. The older boy has short hair, the usual dark skin in Eleven and he looked annoyed at the younger one. There was some arguing, and it was clear that Cristian was trying to comfort his younger brother, telling him it's going to be okay.

Such a heart-warming start, and it will surely bring a good type of attention.

Nevertheless, the boy strutted to the stage with a smile after he convinced his brother to go.

"To the District Eleven tributes: Calliope Germaine and Cristian Moldovan!"

The two shook hands, losing their smiles for one second.

As for me. I smiled brightly.

I may hate the Hunger Games, but it's still my job.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks _SparrowBirdEliza_ for the selfish Cristian Moldovan, and also _AGirlAndHerWildIdeas_ for the jack-of-all-trades Calliope Germaine! So yeah, It has been a while, and now, I'm announcing a small summer season hiatus. It's more on the fact that I don't have internet where I'm going than anything else. **

**I want to make some things clear...**

 **1) Anyway, I came back from the summer vacation was great for me. Will any reader be willing to tell me your funniest summer vacations?**

 **2) Did you guys know I have ELEVEN volunteers in this SYOT! I mean, wow. Nearly half right there.**

 **3) Thank you _curiousclove_ for reviewing! It's feeding me and keeps me alive.**

 **4) Also, what do you think about Jess Meadow and the Eleven victors? I wanted to try a new POV.**

 **5) Okay, I know this came late, but District Twelve will come soon, and at least I finished this chapter.**


	14. Chapter 12: The Undesirables

**Chapter 12: The Undesirables**

 **District Twelve Reaping**

* * *

 **Iry Hawkfeather - District Twelve Female**

* * *

 _"I always would be happy to make a character even more unlikeable, but you know, there's a limit and if you go there, you get a different kind of movie, man,"_

\- Paul Giamatti

* * *

Chewing the bubblegum I had in my mouth, I inhaled on the gum, blew it, forming it into a huge pink bubble. Once it made a 'pop' noise, the gum layer was all around my lips, making me laugh. I love bubblegum or just candy in general. They're the best thing in the world. Best thing ever invented times infinity.

Candy, candy, candy, what would have I ever done without candy?

A sudden thought came to mind. _Would've probably joined in the majority class of the smelly, dirty commoners in this district._

Thank goodness I wasn't born in the Seam.

"Daddy, I'm going outside! I want more candy!"

My father smiled at me. He was a thin man with blonde hair and green eyes. He's behind the counter, showing rows and rows of delicious candy that only the merchant class - and a rare Capitolite visitor - can afford. He owns a candy show, the _only_ candy shop in this dirty district. He's wealthy, and I'm his one and _only_ daughter. I'm special, more than anyone else in this crumpy district.

I wish I was born somewhere else sometimes - even complained about it to my parents one time but diffused me with telling me they'll lose everything if they do - and it always worsens in this district. In any case, I'm a queen here. Everyone knows that.

"But you already had some today, sweetie," dad said. "Maybe you could call dial it down a little for today."

"Daaaaddy! I want candy! I promise it's not only for me," I lied.

"I don't know, your mother told me you've been eating too much. I don't want you to have a toothache."

"Fffffine! Give me some for my friend's dad!"

He gave me a fatherly smile and laughed. "Okay, Iry. For friendship, you can ask for five different candies."

It always feels easy to trick him. Once upon a time, I would have felt bad for lying, but it isn't all that horrible. More candy for me!

Once I picked what I wanted, I went out. "Bye Dad!"

He's not my dad.

Not biologically anyway. It's pretty obvious.

I have red hair. I have some wide brilliant blue eyes that I'm sure others take notice. I don't have my father's looks, hell, I might even be more fit than my dad. My mom doesn't have my looks either. She has black hair - common dirty seam hair - and her good looks and eyes. So yeah, pretty, healthy, wealthy, and once more, pretty.

My real dad is a peacekeeper. Not sure who or where, but who cares. I have two awesome dads! Being a peacekeeper, he should be awesome. All the peacekeepers I meet are nice to me, so he should be too.

Unwrapping a small chocolate bar, I ate it instantly. ~ _It tasted like nuts, and a feeling of a sea breeze wash over me. As if I'm riding a whale, surfboarding vast waves_ ~

Not sure why I think like that, but candy!

While walking the road, I had noticed a boy laying his body next to an empty stall.

He had a sad frown on his face that I ignored, has dark marks on him that would mean he's another child from the miner class. The boy - he can't be older than ten - looked lost. Lord and _dirty_. What is he doing here? You know what, I don't care.

"Kid," I said. I walked right in front of him.

He looked at me, curious.

I grinned. "Want some sweets?"

He blinked as I started waving around some bars of chocolate. Then he nodded.

"Okay... kiss my feet."

The boy blinked once more, moved from the stall, crawling misery on all four limbs. He was just about to kiss my shoes before stopping.

"What are you waiting for?" I questioned, annoyed. "Don't you want some food? Just kiss my feet."

He's the peasant here. It's an honor.

Quietly and swiftly, he kissed.

He got the candy and the boy learned his place. This is the merchant's district. No smelly miner's here unless they want to beg for something. It's the way of the world.

I walked away, ignoring the sad look on the boy's eyes as he started eating his chocolate bars.

Unwrapping the lollypop, I put it in my mouth and smirked in expectation.

Kids do almost everything for my surgery sweets.

It's why I'm the _Queen_.

 _The only thing missing is real friends_ , a random thought appeared.

NO! That is not the right way to think.

Queens don't have friends. Remember that.

* * *

 **Cole Lynderly - District Twelve Male**

* * *

 _"Cole! Cole! Look what I found!" my friend Benjamin beamed brightly to show me something._

 _"What is it?" I sprinted towards my friend._

 _There was a large fence, a barbed wired fence that meant to keep out Twelves from ever leaving their district. I once heard that President Potter back in the 100 HG removed this fence and Districts, citizens, at a time, were allowed to travel anyway. It only lasted a few years, but people were happier somehow. Then the fence was brought back, forever keeping districts separate once more._

 _Benjamin pointed to the cut hole in the fence. "Well..."_

 _I turned to my friend. "There's a gap here."_

 _"Yeah," he nodded enthusiastically. "Let's go through it."_

 _"Isn't that illegal?"_

 _Benjamin's smile got smaller. "You do know there are hunters in this district right?"_

 _"Yes?"_

 _"Well, outside the fence is a forest with animals. So, technically, hunters are illegal yet they sell_ goodies _every day. So yeah Cole, this is illegal. But no one cares enough about it. As long as no Peacekeepers see, they won't tell."_

 _I smiled, having no more reservations. "That sounds great then! Let's get going!"_

 _We're going on an adventure!_

 _Once we passed the fence, we saw a better view of the forest. I don't think I've seen so many trees in one place. Well, yeah, I know it's a forest. But Twelve is a barren place with barely any trees at all. It looks so nice._

 _Chirping birds, animal noises, and leaves fluttering. Something mom read to me, but something I've never experienced. It's all so green._

 _Benjamin and I kept on walking. We talked. We played tag. We saw a deer. We played with sticks and used them as swords._

 _It was fun._

 _"We have to get back," Benjamin told me. "Think our folks won't like us being late."_

 _Only that day didn't end up fun._

 _"Your right. Let-"  
_

 _BBBOOOOOOOOOMMM!_

 _The ground shook, and we both fell._

 _I woke up, not remembering how I went to sleep or why my bed is rocky and tough. I looked up and saw that the sky was gone. Not completely, it looked though as if there was only one entrance and it was in the air._

 _Rocks were everywhere. So were bodies, unmoving from the ground._

 _So was Benjamin next to me._

 _He wasn't moving. He never moved when I called his name. He didn't move when I pushed him. HE DIDN'T MOVE WHEN I SHOOK HIM!_

"Cole! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!"

My sister shook me.

"Gemma," I muttered, still half-asleep.

She smiled innocently, but wary before replying, "Um, it's morning. Mom made breakfast."

...

We both stared. Gemma was a little unnerved. I can tell.

"Get out Gemma. I'm cursed," I told her honestly. "You shouldn't be here."

"Cole..." She looked up to me, looking like a sad kitten. "Mom and dad say it's not your fault."

They don't know that.

I was there. A year ago.

Along with 40 dead miners. Plus Benjamin.

I was the only one alive. It makes sense that I'm cursed. I doomed them.

Genna doesn't deserve my company. She doesn't deserve to get hurt.

"Genna. Please leave my breakfast at the door," I said quietly.

My sister. All chocolate skinned - a rarity in Twelve - with short hair and brown eyes. She doesn't look all that different from me right now. That'll change in the future, but I don't plan on seeing her again when I get old enough to move out.

She nodded. All sad. Most likely still expecting me to play games with her as we did before the incident I caused.

"It's Reaping Day, by the way," she said before she left my room.

I almost laughed.

The worst day in Panem, perfect for a cursed boy like me.

So I got dressed, brushed my teeth, ate my breakfast.

Then to the miserable town hall, I went.

This miserable day started.

"Welcome District Twelve! It is I, Cornelius Curio! But please, call me CC!" the funny looking Capitolite announced. A bubbly tall man with a fursuit, a lot of make-up - his lips were black, as were his eyeliners that was around his shiny blue eyes. Does he have feather tails? I have no idea. I think my curse has affected my life in more ways than one if I have to suffer watching this Capitolites attire.

"Now, on to the 172nd Hunger Games everyone!" he cheered. Somehow, CC still had a smile on his face when everyone else looked miserable and had frowny faces.

He went to the girl's bowl. I waited for the cursed name.

"Iry Hawkfeather."

There was crying. A lot of crying. "NO! NO! NO! NO!"

I saw a redheaded girl from the fifteen-year-old section drop to her knees, crying. I haven't seen a girl break down like this before.

Funny thing is I recognized her. She was a meanie who kept offering us children candy if we did things for her. Like steal, talk, break a window. Benjamin and I stopped coming to her when she ordered us to carry her. Not just carry, she wanted us to lift her while she was sitting down on a chair.

Not much sympathy for Iry, I had noticed. A lot of people smiled viciously, and I think I hear someone laugh.

Peacekeepers had to carry her to the stage. CC looked disappointed at her, tsking.

Then he moved on to the boy's bowl.

Wonder who's it going to be.

"Cole Lynderly."

...

...

I let out a chuckle.

The chuckles got louder. Then turned into full-blown laughter. All the boys around me took a step back from me, looking at me strangely.

I'm so cursed! Cursed! CuRsEd!

I didn't even notice that I walked to the stage. I think I was too busy laughing at my irony. A boy that should've been dead now in a death game. The ultimate curse.

CC eyed me, taking a step back. Unsure of what to make of me. Even Iry stopped crying, staring at me like I'm some kind of freak.

Oh...

I think I'm smiling. Why was I smiling?

My smile wasn't the normal kind, I bet.

"To the tributes from Twelve. Iry Hawkfeather and Cole Lynderly," CC didn't even shout out happily like he did last year. He sounded unsure for once, even depressed.

He skipped the shaking hands part of the whole thing and guided both of us to the Justice Building.

In the Justice Building, my parents visited along with Gemma.

They said to keep safe, to stay alive. They hugged me and said goodbye.

We all know I'm not coming back.

At least their cursed family member is gone now.

* * *

 **Iry Hawkfeather - District Twelve Female**

* * *

What the hell was up with that creepy smile?

Not that it should be all that important during my current position, but I'm starting to think that boy is one of those criminals I heard sometimes volunteer into the Hunger Games as a chance to escape the death penalty.

Mom visited.

My dad visited too.

My aunts came in too. Dulcie and Bella Dusting. Best aunts ever. There are always telling me that I'm their darling princess. Now I'm going to be having a rough time, no doubt about that.

We cried and we promised, but that won't be enough.

I'm not stupid. I know that the Hunger Games will be dangerous. That there is a low possibility of me winning. I mean, there hasn't been a winner in District Twelve in 30 years! Come on!

Snow dam him, I am going to die.

Then the doors opened. A man with red hair and a peacekeeper came bursting into my contained prison room.

"Wait! Oh, wait! Wow, okay. That was a jog! I think I need a minute," the man breathed out.

I tilted my head in confusion. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"

"I- I'm-" the man breathed, and finally said, "I'm your father."

What? Wait, what!?

"I'm here to tell you that your sister is going into the games with you."

I have a sister! What the shit!?

"You-" I started, before realizing that I have no idea how to react to a situation like this. Should I be mad? Angry?

However, the Hunger Games was closeby and I asked the question that I needed to ask first. The question that could very well save me from becoming a dead tribute.

"Who's my sister?"

The stoat ginger man with blue eyes licked his lips and said...

"...Her name is Bliss Lustra."

* * *

 **A/N: And with that, all the Reaping is complete! Thank you that _one ace popsicle stick_ for the spoiled candy-loving Iry Hawkfeather(not to mention the nice twist I brought in the end) and _Manectric11_ for the deluded and semi-insane Cole Lynderly. Also, a shoutout to _PotatoSorcerer_ for CC! **

**So, yeah. It took me a while. Only until Halloween night did I finish this chapter: the Final Reaping. Which I thought would be interesting to mention.**

 **Right now, I'm going to ask these questions.**

 **1) Whos your favorite character?**

 **2) Who's your least favorite character?**

 **3) Who do you believe is going to be the victor?**

 **Now, it's time for the train ride! Let's see some Victors and how they interact with the tributes! There is a process you know, and it's not all that bad. I can't wait! Thank you all for reading!**


	15. Chapter 13: For Those Who Missed It

**Chapter 13: For Those Who Missed It**

 **Tribute Review**

* * *

 **Sandra Cassiopeia - Master of Ceremonies**

* * *

Now, onto the 172nd Hunger Games! Yes, in the future, people will only see this as another Hunger Games, one that most probably won't ever end up as the top 10 in history. Either way, it's my job to care about this year. Being a Master of Ceremonies isn't easy, I would know.

I was so excited during my first year of the job. So emotional, full of passion, and I didn't want to disappoint my father. He's the reason I got the position in the first place, and I'm thankful for it. Like Claudius Templesmith and Roger Farhill before me, I'm a face everyone in Panem now knows.

It's a simple job. It pays well. I only have to work a month a year. Nothing challenging, mostly, I have to look good. Along with making other tributes look good.

Not that twenty-three tributes out of twenty-four matters. District tributes are just that. _Tributes_. Sacrifices playing the most dangerous game, making everyone in the Capitol smile along with betting.

What most people don't know (or care) about having a job like mine is having to know information about all twenty-four tributes. All about what history we can find, the family, and the tribute's drama if they have any.

The first year was the worst. I knew about every tribute family, some private secrets or medical conditions, blood type, and the twenty-three tributes that died in the 158th Hunger Games are forever in my memory. I remember their names, at least.

But I now know better after that year. I learned something important. The one thing even Patricia agrees with me.

The tributes are playthings.

Sim characters, as I'd like to call them.

Now, onto the show!

I entered the room, a cozy room with couches, a table, and one blank holoscreen.

On one of the couches, there's a handsome purple bearded man, one with a regular black business suit. I smirked, same old same old. Never one with a flashy suit unless it's necessary(which is at least half the time, much to his horror, I'm sure).

"Knock. Knock, Vice Headmaker," I addressed, having a chirpy tone.

Aaron Irontyde looked up from the files on the table.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Cassiopeia," he greeted.

Unconsciously rolling my eyes, I couldn't help but agree with everyone in the Hunger Games department that Aaron has the biggest stick up his ass. We worked together for fourteen years and still, he's so damn official.

"For the love of Snow, just call me Sandra, Aaron," I said, annoyed. "There's only two of us here."

Aaron grunted. "Very well. Take a seat, Sandra. The tributes are all accounted for, and the sooner this is done, the better."

I nodded at that, seating comfortably on the couch.

On the shiny vase in the middle of the table, I could see my reflection. My green eyes, long face, and straight combed hair that others flattered to be beautiful. Then again, being an interviewer needs a pretty face.

Perhaps my one flaw is my brown hair. It's not eye-catching enough. Now, I have to dye it like almost everyone else in the Capitol. Wonder what color dye I should use in the interview?

-District 1-

The holoscreen showed District One and all its glory. It's not hard to imagine why the Capitol favors the career districts, after all, they cheer as we do.

"Bliss Lustra," Aaron informed.

The One girl was pretty, I guess. Not a traditional blonde, but I can't help but feel jealous over her red hair. I did notice her eyes were cold, intelligent even.

"I'm guessing that little red got her position by being ruthless. Can't imagine her being a musclehead," I speculated.

Aaron nodded. "Indeed. Miss Lustra has records of beating fellow careers through any means necessary. It is also noted that other possible volunteers have resigned their spots to make way for her."

Cold and _manipulative_. Wonderful combination. "Any family?" I asked

"Only her mother. Interestingly, there are no records of her father."

That is interesting.

Next, I saw a blonde One boy going to stage, younger than most careers, but with the same confidence, the boy ran forward to the stage like anyone from One. The difference here was that there was some confusion in the crowd then there was cheering. Another noticeable thing is that Golden Chase looked shocked, then mad.

"Silver Chase," the boy said his name confidently. Oh. Oh. OH!

"Let me guess: He wasn't the chosen volunteer, and his brother is the Victor Golden Chase. Am I right?"

"Acute observation, Sandra."

"Oh, I can smell the drama. Quite clear something is going on between the two Chases."

-District 2-

The powerhouse district. Fueling the military and stonework in Panem, Two is the colder, ruthless, and practically the big mean brother of all the twelve districts of Panem. Got to love them, they get equal if not more support the One.

I see the career girl, once more something other than the regular blond or auburn, this career is a beauty with a unique old-Asian heritage. Other than that, I can't figure anything out of the ordinary.

"So what about Roxy Flint, Aaron? Anything special about her?"

"Nothing beyond what is usually expected from careers. She comes from a wealthy family, trained at a young age, won her matches, and became the chosen volunteer."

"Oh well, I'll improvise with her. So far, she got the looks to get the sponsors, no doubt about that. The perverts will love her if she decides to go the sexy angle. So far, she's a regular glory-hogging career. Nothing wrong with that, but let us hope she'll have more going for her."

"I'm sure you'll be interested in the Two male tribute then."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Watch."

That I did. I was proven shocked by what I saw. The male was reaped! Where was the volunteer?! A handsome blonde came forward and kissed the escort's hand. I rolled my eyes at that. Nothing much to be said, but indeed, where's the volunteer? This is out of character for Two.

"So, what's the story behind this? I mean, the boy look's like the usual confident career, but you know, where's the volunteer?"

Aaron seemed _amused_ by this. An actual emotion. Will wonders never cease.

"The ironic situation here is that Somnus Marbrand was already the chosen career. Instead, the boy the reaped. Interesting, but I doubt it's a coincidence. I'll have it make sure to organize an investigation as a precaution. Other than the queer change of direction, Mr. Marbrand has the same background as Ms. Flint. One other note is that he's a 'lady-killer' as it's been reported."

I looked at Somnus's face, having to admit it does look nice. I grimaced. "I can see it."

 _Men_. Either way, he's going to have sponsors. I'm sure of it. He's got the looks, new entrance, and he's a career. But not my type.

That Roxy though, dam, she does look _fine_ , I must say. Looks like I have a favorite. Giggles.

-District 3-

The district of technology was doing fine for the first half of the century. It was getting greener instead of a steampunk wonderland. Then the earthquake hit at the 166th HG, the cost of damages had to be cut back on the whole 'Make Three Green' plan. In any case, no one was smiling or cheering here.

I see a thin girl with wavy brown hair come to stage named Veta Del Mina.

"Mrs. Del Mina has been reported to have skipped school to work at factories. Other files say she's been betting using knife-throwing skills and poker. The main contributor to her family ever since her family lost it's butcher business and mother. Current relations: A father and a sibling. All financially struggling."

My eyes softened at that. I know the pain of losing a mother. "Was it the earthquake?"

"Yes, yes it was," Aaron replied stoically.

Guess we're back to that, he's so robotic sometimes. As for Vita, well, she seems to have a lived a semi-dangerous life, maybe she'll have a chance with her experience in her side.

Next, a boy from the fifteen-year-old line, one with a strange look, who walks with grace to the stage without any hassle or emotional struggle.

"What's up with this Dorian Fleece kid?"

"An orphan," he gave out. Of course, there's usually one every year since the earthquake. "The only other point of interest is that he has created a form of worship. He has shown zealous protectiveness for it."

"Shit," I groaned. "I can see it already. Dorian's going to preach in my interview, worse, some might buy into it."

"There is a great chance of it happening, yes."

I groaned in misery.

-District 4-

Ah, while it may not be the most resourceful, or the richest district. Four in everyone's mind has been the prettiest district to look at. I mean, seeing the ocean has its charms, doesn't it?

"Delmara Lum. Delmara Lum," I rolled the Four girls' name. "Nice name, but not the prettiest one to look at. Not ugly, but it's clear she wants to show she's not to mess with. Her attitude and muscle gave it away."

"Traditional career family. Mother, father, a twin brother," Aaron informed. "Dedicated. There's nothing else, but I suspect she'll be a hard one to beat in a fight."

Then a stoat looking redhead volunteered, walked next to his medium-skinned district partner. He crossed his arms, trying to look impressive. Well, he's succeeded at that, but Delmara seems to have done a better job at it. He looks out of his depth when you pay close attention to his face.

"Anet Bennet. Much like Delmara, a career family origin. The difference would be that he's been diagnosed with an abnormal stutter."

I raised a brow out of curiosity. "That sounds like he won't be any use in the interviews. The best shot for him is to go with the strong silent type routine."

"As it were. Both are careers, and both, of course, are intended to go far."

"They do look strong," I commented. "But you and I both know by now strength isn't everything. Not when that _bitch_ Patricia is running the Hunger Games."

The Vice Headmaker wisely didn't correct me.

-District 5-

Ah, District Five. This one. Yeah. No, I can't think of this district as anything other than mediocre honestly. It never stood out.

Once the escort calls up a Zyra Koore, the reaped girl pushed someone to the ground and ran to the stage. Quite an entrance there. She looks as serious at Delmara and Anet from the previous district.

"You getting the feeling she's capable or is that just me," I said to Aaron.

"No, you are once again correct with your social deductions. Zyra Koore has been trained at the age of five by her wealthy parents, following that common trend," if I didn't know any better, he sounded disgruntled. "I assume that the person she knocked down was her twin sister, who I believe was about to volunteer for her."

"Ah, well, that's certainly interesting," I smirked. A fighter for sure. Wonder if the non-careers will offer more.

On the screen, _'I volunteer for tribute!'_ was heard.

That was quick.

 _'Volt Nightingale! District Five's next Victor!'_

That surname sounds familiar. Wait! Wait a minute!

"Is that ant-girls little brother!?" I asked, shocked.

"If you are speaking about Emmeline Nightingale, you are correct," he answered. "Once more, a Victor's sibling. Not much is known other than that."

First Silver, now Volt? There better not be a third one with some sibling issues. We need better stories, dam it!

"Either way, the start of all this seems to bring up differently from most games," I commented.

"Perhaps."

-District 6-

The sky is always quite dark in this district. Then again, this district broke the crime rate record almost every year, so maybe they purposely make it look miserable during the Reaping.

There was a skinny girl and a fight when the Six boy was called up. Moira Balise and Jaeden Rota.

"Quite the miserable batch."

Aaron nodded slightly. "Interestingly, Moira Balise had an older brother who participated in the 165th Hunger Games. Do you, by any chance, remember a James Balise?"

"The games with where Kay and Misty won, right?" I asked myself. I started searching for my memories but found nothing. "Did he die by drowning?"

"Half the tributes in that arena died by drowning," he deadpanned. "But to answer your question, yes."

"Right. I forgot," I giggled a little. "So, what about Jaedan Rota?"

"He has a large family. His mother has cancer," he gave that information freely without a thought.

Perhaps if I was some other Capitolite, I would've gasped. But I got enough drama needed. "Good. That kid needs sympathy points to go far. Especially after that mess with the bowl hair kid. Doesn't look good for him."

-District 7-

The green and mean district. Seven, a place of nature, and not a lot of tourism. Some Capitolites don't like being outside, I suppose.

I see an auburn-haired girl walked up, muscles that show that she's clearly from a long line of lumberjacks. Parents must be proud of her. She's being quite calm and brave walking up there.

There's not much I need to ask. Aaron already told me she has a family, and she has gotten a severe injury during a forest fire. There's nothing dramatic about her I can use against her.

It was the Seven boy I'm sure had Panem's attention.

Aspen Wolfe was limping to the stage. His left leg was dragging, it was almost painful to watch.

"What happened to the kid?"

"Do you perchance remember what happened two years ago during the Seven's Reaping?"

I nodded. "A riot happened," I stared at the poor boy. "He's not going to make it."

Even Aaron can't hide his pity for the boy. "No. No, he is not."

-District 8-

"Wow, District Eight has gotten some troublemaker, right? That Marron Deinan caused quite the stir from his fight," I said, pleased by the violence.

Aaron grunted.

"Something wrong?"

"Hadley Holbrooke has nothing to note other than dead mother accused of rebel connections, but I doubt it's of important use," he informed.

"It's something. The girl looks ordinary and youthful. She's going to need something to keep her from being a bloodbath. Marron Deinan on the other hand, I'm pretty sure he's part of one of the rich families in Eight right?"

"I'm surprised," Aaron said. He didn't sound like it. "I didn't think you'd know that."

"Eight is all about clothing. It's important for me, you know," I told him before looking at the holoscreen. "Yeah, Marron Deinan has a chance, he's wealthy so he must have some training, but he's got to work on his attitude before I interview him. Else it's goodbye."

-District 9-

"DID BOTH OF THEM VOLUNTEER!?"

"They did," Aaron commented needlessly, not reacting to my screaming.

"One girl saved a blind girl out of kindness while the Nine boy saved his brother!"

"Daisy Grove and Kalvin Kanstine."

"Don't care. My god. I doubt they'll win, but they'll score sponsors for sure."

"Indeed."

"What interesting tributes we have this year. So full of surprises, even during the start of it all."

-District 10-

There are twins in the Hunger Games again. These games are getting all types of variety of tributes. It makes me glad I could host all 24 of them.

"Buck and Doe Adler," the purple bearded robot of a man supplied. "Twins born of a wealthy rancher. Curiously, only Mrs. Adler goes to school while there's not much of a record with Mr. Adler."

"I mean, the point Buck would volunteer to the Hunger Games would be to protect Doe. Once more, another story the audience will love," I said, then I noticed something. "I don't think either of them is in the best condition to be a part of this fight. I mean, Buck has some muscles, but Doe looks adorably scrawny. I just feel like something is wrong with Buck, however."

"I'll trust your judgment. There's going to be a notice for Buck Adler to have an appointment with a doctor. I'm curious about his lack of health records."

Smiling came naturally. "Sounds like a mystery. Tell me if you find anything."

"As I should."

He's so serious. He's lucky I'm used to it by now.

-District 11-

"Okay, did I just witness another volunteer. Another volunteer who happens to be a legacy tribute. I mean, that's what? Eleven volunteers in one game! That's got to be a record!"

"I believe you forgot that Somnus was reaped, not a volunteer. We have a total of ten volunteers in these games," Aaron corrected. "As for Calliope Germaine, it appears she has volunteered to protect her friend similar to Kalvin Kanstine has done."

"Okay," I looked closer at Calliope, noticed her muscles and golden-brown skin. "I think she's career level."

"Her father, Lev Germaine, has been reported to have trained her, so you are indeed correct. She'll prove to be a contender," Aaron agreed.

"What about the boy? Cristian Moldovan. He any good."

Other than his admittedly good poker face, he doesn't look as fierce as half the other tributes so far.

"Mr. Moldovan has had an average background. Would having five siblings be of any use to you?"

"I guess?"

Cristian is easily overshadowed by Calliope. So far, he's not interesting at all.

For his sake, I hope he plays his cards right.

-District 12-

The dirtiest district is known as Twelve. Filled with dirty miners. It's their jobs, I know, but I can't help but be disgusted a little by them. I don't know how CC(the escort) can put a smile and talk to them with such pizzazz.

After the Reaping, however, it's noticeable that CC has stopped smiling. Guess he knows his odds won't be in his tributes favor.

At least his tributes will be noticed as crying girls and crazy boy. A little comfort, I'm sure, seeing that weakling isn't far from anyone's minds.

"So... What's up with them?"

"Iry Hawkfeather. The only daughter of a candyman-"

"Doesn't sound impressive."

"The only candyman in the district," he continued despite my interruption. Forgot how shitty the district could be. "Shown to be, aggressive and emotional. Not a threat, unless she's recreating Johanna Mason's tactic."

"Doubt it. She's useless," I declared with certainty, then I noticed something. "But she does look a bit like Bliss Lustra. Same red hair, same eyes, almost the same face. Bliss is more fit, in any case."

Patricia's helper hummed. "I could see it. Must be a coincidence."

Yeah, he's got to be right. Districts aren't allowed to interact with one another. But, the similarities spark an interest in me. Can't help it.

"What about the crazy kid? The one who kept smiling and saying cursed all the damn time."

"The Twelve male tribute's name is Cole Lynderly," he said. "There was an incident mining incident he was involved in five years ago. Since then, recent actions showed that the incident still affects Mr. Lynderly mental condition."

"Oh, maybe-" I stopped myself, and grinned. "Never mind, I'll ask about it in the interviews."

-FINISH-

"Finnnnnaly, we're done," I said, cheering internally.

Aaron - the purple robot, as he's called behind his back at times for being a joyless overkill - had to ruin my mood. "The Head Gamemaker requests an early report by you by tomorrow about the tributes mentalities. I believe you can accomplish that."

"Oh my Snow, is that necessary? I bet that dumass just wants to give me unneeded paperwork for her pettiness," I complained.

It spoke volumes that the Vice Gamemaker didn't defend his boss. Instead, he said, "Perhaps it would be best for you to find a compromise with Mrs. Lovemunch. We can be reasoned with."

"You think I didn't try?" I hissed, angry. I spread my hands out dramatically, finding the thought of Patricia exhausting. "She thinks I'm into you. You know that, right? Which is _ridiculous_. Does she not know I like girls!?"

God, I'm sure I told her too, the crazy jealous b-word. She tried to get me fired once, maybe twice. Called me an old ugly tramp. The nerve! What was the President thinking when he hired her?!

"Dam it, why couldn't you be the Head Gamemaker?!" I asked Aaron angerly. "You've been here longer than me! Chambers could've picked you."

The man shrugged, uncaring or my outburst. "He needs someone he trusts, and for some odd reason, Mrs. Lovemunch earned it."

 _Bet she seduced him_ , I thought unfairly. I sighed. Whatever.

After calming down, gossip is in order with Aaron. I smiled coyly at my co-worker, "Hey, speaking about romance. Any caught your eye?"

There's a betting pool if Aaron has someone in mind. Hell, there was even a bet that he's still a virgin. May as well get some cash in.

Aaron didn't look from his papers he was filing. "No. I'm a busy man. With the Hunger Games. Family as well. My brother needs support for his child soon."

I pouted, "You know, maybe you get a hobby?"

The Vice Gamemaker stood up, turning off the holoscreen. Then turned to me, "I have my job, Sandra."

He left after that. No small talk or anything.

Unbelievable. He'd give the word 'workaholics' made into a vice if that was possible. He never stops working or managing. He never stops to talk about himself.

Wait. Wait...

Now that I think about it, I don't know anything about Aaron Irontyde's private life. At least, he never talks about it. Nothing other than him having a brother.

Quite surreal how one knows so little about a co-worker after so long.

Just who is Aaron Irontyde?

* * *

 **A/N: I know I said there's going to be a train ride. Instead, we are getting this. I felt like some quick review should be made for the tributes I was given. A reminder. A quick preview. Yeah, you guys get it. Train Ride(for real this time) will happen next chapter. I also wanted to make my own little Capitol drama. Couldn't help it.** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 **1) What do you think about Aaron and Sandra?**

 **2) Any favorites among the tributes?**

 **3) Who do you think is going to become the Victor?**


	16. 14: The Wonderful Capitol Built Railroad

**Chapter 14: The Wonderful Capitol Built Railroad**

 **Train Ride**

* * *

 **Iry Hawkfeather - District Twelve Female**

* * *

 _"There is no place like home."_

-L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

* * *

I sneaked a quick look at the peacekeeper guarding a door outside. I can see the back of his helmet from the window.

Then the peacekeeper turns around. He smiles as he catches me looking, giving me a reassuring smile.

So... that's my real dad.

I don't know how to feel about that. For starters, my dad could have chosen a better time to see me. A day that doesn't happen to be the day I ended up in the _Hunger Games_. I'm questioning my father's judgment, not that I found it hard to do. He's been nothing more than vague thought for me. Now he's here.

And he's telling me that I have a sister, who also happens to be in the Hunger Games too. Snow! Seriously, what are the chances!? I'm serious. Holy shit, that's like a one in a billion chance of happening to a person.

...Then again, I am a proper _noble_. Better than any miner or merchant. It would make sense I'd have some upper hand in the games. Once I meet this Bliss character of mine, victory will come easier.

 _Oh. My. Creepy. Snowy. Beard_ , I thought mournfully. _I'm a train leading to the Hunger Games. So unfair._

At least there's food in this train cart.

There's a whole bunch of food in front of me. Of all different varieties that I don't think my other 'dad' can afford for me.

I would only be perfect if it wasn't for all these peasants near me.

Frist that creepy district partner, Cole something. He's taking small bites from the sandwich he got.

Then that C.C who wears make-up and black-liners that I wished I had.

Then, my so-called mentor.

"You two are pretty much died," Dustin Wright, Victor of the 142nd Games, commented his first words to me. He was a tall man, looking more healthy and even handsome than any regular peasant - victor of no victor - from Twelve should be. Regular long black hair, blue eyes that's darker than my own, and he wears a white cowboy hat too.

I glared at this old bastard. How dare he say that?! No right! He has no right!

Before I could yell my complaints at this uncultured swine, C.C cut in with an unsure voice, "Now. Now, Dusty. There's always a chance. We simple have to guide them and relied on luck as all the past tributes have done.

Dustin snorted. "We're gonna need a lot of luck. We got a thirteen-year-old boy with issues and a fifteen-year-old girl who thinks she owns the place. Doubt either of them will be of any use in the arena."

That does it!

"I'm Iry Hawkfeather!" I barked, standing straighter. "And you're a stupid dumbass if you think you can treat me like I'm a nothing like you."

Dustin glowered at me. "Guess I know who not to help."

I snorted with the same disdain he showed earlier. "Not like you'd be any help anyway. It's been what? Thirty years when Twelve has won. No thanks to you."

 _Has it been so long?_ I questioned myself. _Whatever, it's because of Dustin! Nothing but a useless mouthy peasant!_

The mentor stood up from his seat, now officially angry, "Now you listen here you little-"

"Enough."

A single word. That was all it took for Dustin to shut up. The voice I heard sounded feminine and old.

Once I saw her, I knew who she was.

She has her silver hair braided, still quite silky to my jealousy. She may be old, but she's still standing strong - regardless of her short stature - with her tanned skin, and grey eyes. I don't doubt it's the old broad.

"Sorry, Katniss," Dustin apologized respectfully, and yet still looked sour when he turned to me. "We got a princess problem. I never imagined _our_ district having to put up with this shit."

"Miracles happen sometimes," Katniss Everdeen said dryly.

"Any chance you're going to take her?" Dustin asked. If I was a perceptive person, I would have figured out that he was silently pleading. But I wasn't, so I took every word he says as an insult to me.

Katniss nodded. "Iry is off your hair, Dusty. You take Cole."

 _Is the old bag better than the rude idiot?_ I thought to myself. Neither mentors were what I'd call ideal.

"No need to tell me twice. Come on, Cole," the younger Victor said to his tribute. The creepy boy didn't say anything, like, at all. Instead, he follows his instructions. I think I heard him mutter 'cursed' or something when he went out, but I quickly found myself not caring for the bloodbath tribute.

C.C, on the other hand, had this look of admiration. "Ms. Everdeen. Do you have anything for me to do?"

The Co-Victor of the 74th Hunger Games turned to him. "Get to your contacts and play up our tribute's worth. You're no good here, Cornelius."

The escort looked at her, then at me. "I suppose so. I'm sure if anyone can win us a Victor. It'll be you, _Girl on Fire_."

I huffed at that. What a stupid old title.

Katniss then sat right next to me, analyzing me. I'd be lying if I say I wasn't creeped out.

"Why are you not crying anymore?" Katniss asked sternly.

That's not- goddamit.

"Because... I don't want to," I answered uncertainly. _It's because I won't be alone. I'll have a sister with me._

"Was that an answer, girl?"

Shit. This is starting to piss me off, and I don't need to hear this from a senile old bat.

"I don't have to say anythi-"

Katniss put a hand on my mouth.

"Let me stop you there," the older lady said. "I have children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren. Along with a near-century of children that I had mentored, I know when one keeps a certain secret. Now, I know you're the type to be easy to anger everyone. However, I expected you to be bawling like so many other children. Now, tell me do you want to win? To survive the Hunger Games?"

I nodded. I'd like that, of course.

"Good. Now tell me, what secret do you have?" Katniss ordered.

Gulping, I answered her question and told her about my sister, Bliss.

The old bat smirked. "Now, that's what something the Capitol will gobble right up. You might win, girl. Win, and you'll be gifted with all the wonders of the Capitol."

After Katniss's tempting offer, I _listened_. It wasn't as if I could've refused anyway. I heard of her plans. I have determined that with my new sister, my still quite famous(and _favorite_ ) mentor, and my likable charms. I've become quite confident, more than ever, I'll win.

Once the talks were over, I was left wondering about candy and how the Capitol made a 114-year-old woman look so good.

* * *

 **Cristian Moldovan - District Eleven Male**

* * *

What the hell? Just, what the _hell_?

This day hasn't been looking up. At all.

 _Why me? Why can't it be Kyle?_ I thought selfishly before reflecting. Dam it all, that thought wasn't fair to my younger brother. Sure, he was an attention-seeking little brat, but wishing him to the Hunger Games is cruel.

...That wasn't the best Reaping. It made me look weak in front of the cameras.

"So, um, I'm Thea Everest," my so-called mentor introduced herself. "My friends call me Mouse."

"I know," Cristian said flatly.

Everyone knows who the Victors are.

"Right," Thea said awkwardly, taking quiet glances to the other side of the train cart. Particularly, the table where Lev _Germaine_ and Calliope _Germaine_ are having a private conversation.

It's clear to me that there's a _little_ bit of favoritism.

"Do you have any advice to give me? You know, 'cause you're my mentor," Cristian pointed out.

"Don't fucking die. That's rule number one," Thea joked, which caused me to scowl. Thea winced. "Okay, yeah. Sorry. Bad time. Let's start by getting to know you. Do you have any useful skills?"

 _I'm a great liar_ , is my first thought. But that's probably not what she wants to hear. No, she needs to see a happy go lucky face I've been showing everyone else. The Cristian everyone trusts and loves.

I put on a smile. "I can be charming and persuasive. Let me tell you something, Ms. Everest. Back in the work fields, I was pretty popular. Getting in the Capitol's good books would get me an advantage, right?"

Thea nodded. "Something like that, but it's all rather screwed when the most popular tend to be the careers or other people who train like Callio-" she stopped talking right there, which was something I noticed as well. Obvious, she didn't want to compare me to _Calliope_.

It's pretty clear to me my mentor would rather my district partner win than me.

Calliope had training. I didn't.

Calliope has a father who's a Victor. I did not. Thea probably had known Calliope since she was a girl. It's clear to see who's side she's on. That pisses me off.

"Listen, it's not going to be easy," Thea started. _No shit_ , "But I promise I'll get whatever sponsors that are available." You mean, before you sponsor my district partner, who you would want to mentor rather than me.

Fuck my life. I can't even have mentors without playing the favorites game. It's only my life on the line, after all.

"That's great to hear," I told her, hiding all inner thoughts.

The Victor game me a smile, thankfully buying my act. Maybe she won't help me with all her power, but she'll have to do _something_ to turn the tide in my favor.

I eyed my district partner, my oh so perfect partner. "Do you think me teaming up with Calliope would be a good idea?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Thea beamed. "That's a great idea!" Of course, it is. It means you won't feel guilty when you have to choose to sponsor Calliope and me. The problem is her agreeing to it.

"That's good to hear," I said with forced optimism. "You think she'll agree to my proposal?"

Thea thought on it, "Well, I mean, her dad might have other plans, but I'll try to convince Calliope on it."

The best plan I can accomplish, I guess.

I'm not as pretty as Tia, strong as Mika, funny like Austin, intelligent as Ty or as innocent as Kyle. But unlike the rest of my siblings, I know how to manipulate.

All you have to do put a smile and say what everyone else wants to hear.

After a while, Calliope and her dad finished talking in what I imagined being tactics on how she's going to win the Hunger Games. What else would it be?

In any case, Thea had a small chat with the younger girl, and I finally had my talk with her.

Once Calliope walked in front of me, I coughed in my fist. "The names Cristian. And I got to say, you picked one hell of a thing to volunteer for."

She laughed easily. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. But it's better than to let someone else go."

I nodded. "I get it." I don't, but she doesn't need to know that. "It was brave. But I'm guessing there's more to it than bravery. Was she a friend? The one you volunteered for."

Calliope gave a wistful smile. "Yeah, since childhood."

She seems honest. Impulsive too. Good, might be foolish enough to trick.

"So anyway, can we ally with one another?" I asked, afterward giving some points. "I mean, we're both from the same district. And well, I'd like to think we can trust each other. That is if you want to?"

My district partner seemed to consider it. "Yeah, I heard about you. From Laine. Says you help out some times with her dad. I think I can trust. At least, until the Final Eight."

I smiled, looking relieved. "That's fair. I hope one of us will make it out."

Calliope also smiled. "So do I."

The two of us shook our hands in agreement.

It looks like being a good sanitarian worked out well. Being a nice guy, it tends to lead others away from thinking I have anything devious in mind. Hiding away my envy, making Calliope trust me instead of suspect me of any deceit (at least, early on).

Honestly, I can't wait to see the look on her face when I stab her in the back.

* * *

 **Aspen Wolfe - District Seven Male**

* * *

Is there any hope for me? I mean, I'm crippled. Okay, a limp during an injury gone wrong. Not the same thing, but still a death sentence to the place I'm going.

"Hey, Aspen?" my district partner Taliah got my attention. "Are you..." she stopped herself. _I think she was about to say if I'm okay._

I turned to the table, filled with so much food it can last my family a month. I took a nearby tree-shaped cookie and nibbled on it.

Julia Frost scoffs, "Oh, is the cripple _alright_ going to the Hunger Games? Use your brain, girl."

Taliah glared at her mentor.

But, yeah. That's pretty much what everyone else was thinking.

I'm not all right. That's the sad truth. I am almost certainly going to die next week.

Then came my mentor.

Jaden Ravenswood, Seven's youngest Victor from three years ago, came to the train cart looking like a mess. He was unshaven, suit messy with a few drops of liquid (most likely alcohol), and walked a little uneven. He also came with a bottle of beer.

Then came the spiky-haired escort, Fiffa Miffy, wearing the inappropriate - more in the way that it seems like she's insulting Seven rather than being welcome to it - lumberjack suit. She followed Jaden.

My mentor took a seat at the dinner table.

He then looked at me.

After that, he took another dunk from his bottle.

"Dumass, you going to drink the whole time we're here," Julia said icily.

"Whatever bitch," Jaden replied casually. "Not like mentoring the kid is going to matter."

That hurt. That really, really, hurt.

"Oh, like you were going to help to begin with," the older Victor snarked. "You know, besides finishing the wine cabinet."

Jaden burped rudely. "Get off my case for once. Besides, I didn't hear about you being any good samaritan."

"Tana at least looks like she can take care of herself. If she's a fighter, she doesn't need my help. Can't say the same about you."

"Oh, fuck you! I don't need to hear-"

I blocked those two out.

This day hasn't been good for me. I tried to promise my family and Rowan that I will stay hopeful. But it's hard right now. One working leg, uncaring mentors, that weird escort who probably should talk to more people about fashion statements. How can I stay hopeful when it's true: that I'm going to die, and there's nothing I can do about it.

"Hey, Julia. The zoo called, they're missing their raging ape."

"Funny, coming from a man who looks like he came from a psych ward."

Man, who even thought to bring these together? They hate each other.

And they won't even help me.

Because they are right, I'm helpless.

I played with my food, looking sad. I don't wish to be or act depressed, but the truth is. That's the only option I have left.

 _"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?"_

The outcry came and shocked everyone. Jaden and Julia stopped taunting at each other, and I looked up to see Taliah, red-faced with anger.

"YOU!" Taliah pointed at Julia. "First off, my name is Taliah. Not Tana! Second off, do you have anything helpful to add other than make meaningless taunts and insults to make yourself feel better? No! Well shut up, zip your mouth, unless of course, you can prove yourself even more useless as a mentor by talking at all." Then Taliah turned to Jorden. "What the hell are you doing!? Is now, of all times, a good moment for being a drunkard? You have a kid to mentor! At the very least, try to be a little supportive you asshole!"

"And _you_ ," my district partner glared at Fiffa, whose eyes widened at the furious tribute. She probably thought she wouldn't be included in the rant. "Get a different shirt. Lumberjack style went out _decades_ ago. At this point, it's very insensitive."

Wow. She really gave them a piece of her mind.

Her mood swing was unexpected, but I couldn't help but grin a little.

Taliah then turned to me, losing some red from her checks. "Let's get out of here and do something productive. Anywhere is better than here."

I took her hand, and I followed her.

The mentors - and the escort, I guess - didn't try to stop us. Jaden looked a little guilty, at least. Julia didn't care, if anything, she smirked at Taliah's behavior. And Fiffa looked like a confused puppy when she looked down at her shirt.

Once we were in another room, Taliah and I sat down.

The taller girl covered her face with her hand. "I'm sorry about that. I was a little stressed out."

I couldn't help but smile.

How about that? In a ride to doom, she's trying to be polite to me. She's a nice person.

"I get it," I replied. "Thank you."

She turned to me. "I mean, I didn't want to raise my-"

"I get it," I repeated, looking out the window. "You don't have to defend yourself. I'm on edge too. This is expected, you know."

Then I decided to add some levity. "Also, Fiffa had it coming. What she wears is _tacky_."

Taliah nodded, getting an amused white-toothed smile. "Yeah, that's one word for it," she paused. "...You worried that you'll die."

"I'm worried that I'll be bloodbath honestly."

Dying is a certain for me. But it is how I die that scares me more.

"You'll make it out," Taliah said, certainty in her voice.

I raised my eyebrows. "How?" I pointedly looked at my limp leg. "This isn't exactly going to help me."

"Because I'll be there."

"..."

I smiled, and _no! Those aren't tears! It's just... dust from the train._

Taliah hugged me.

"This isn't ideal. But I'd like to help you out right now. God knows we're not getting any from our mentors."

I sniffled, a little teary.

And feeling so happy that there's someone with me.

"I'm going to," sniffle, "miss my home," I said, with tears. I hated this right now. Being pitiful. I hope I can be positive tomorrow like I usually am.

"Me too," Taliah replied quietly.

At least I can count on someone.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow. I admit, I suck. I want to update quicker, but I never seem to get a chance. Well, here's hoping I can do better. Happy 2020 everybody! ;D** **I also want to thanks my good friend _Kay of Arda_ for Thea Everest and Jaden Ravenswood!**

 **Did you guys know there used to be a time where I was a naive amateur writer - which I still am, but less naive - and that my regret is doing the reaping god knows how many times. So frecking repetitive. Sorry, I just always wanted to complain about that. Here's a word of warning for those that need it. Do. Not. Repeat. The Reapings. You'll hate everything. Your life. Your family. Your friends.**

 **Anyway...**

 **Did anyone expect Katniss? What do you think** **about the mentors?**


	17. Chapter 15: The Announcer

**Chapter 15: The Announcer**

 **Chariot Rides**

* * *

 **Marvin Snyder - Hunger Games Announcer**

* * *

 _"All that glitters is not gold;_  
 _Often have you heard that told:_

\- William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice

* * *

I. Am. The. _Announcer!_

I am the one that brings fear into the hearts of evil men and women of Panem. The one everyone listens to for guidance. The one with the most recognizable voice of the whole damn continent!

I am Marvin Snyder. The one. The only. Shadow Announcer.

In a long time past, I was but a simple man. A man with a loving wife, a beautiful child, and a job at a radio shack where I can make stories about the Dark Lord (yes, people listened to it, and it was a real job. It was amazing). Then, the unexpected happened. My horrible origin story.

It might not be a tragic origin story, but it's horrible.

...Okay, I might have fucked up with having coffee too close the electric equipment. One thing led to another, and my workplace sorta - totally - burned down. Absolutely screwed up there, a hundred percent. I was forced to beg my wife not to file for divorce, told her I had a plan. She bought that thankfully. The bad news was, I didn't have much of a plan.

A few days after that, I begged the previous announcer to retire, which he agreed to, thankfully. I lucked out. I put on my best pathetic face I could muster, and I came in recommended. I got on the job back before the Contarini debacle after the 132 Hunger Games. Chambers won his election that year, right after the Contarini family all went died or missing.

...It was strange that the previous Announcer disappeared after Chambers came to power. Okay, it wasn't. Who am I fooling? It was a shit year during the 132nd Hunger Games. It was a turning point in Capitol politics, but no one needs to know about it.

Great Buddha... Chambers is Snow come again. Everyone knows this. But it's not my job to mention the obvious. Especially to the lucky oblivious Capitolites who listen to my voice.

My voice. My very job today. It's to give my thoughts on the tributes - their costumes and rides as well - this year in a fabulous manner. Chambers is a nut, but he pays well. Even do my Dark Lord stories when it isn't Hunger Games season.

"Marvin, you're doing that creepy thing again when you stare intently at the sky," a voice next to me said flatly.

Next to me was a very valued and kind friend: My partner in crime, Sandra Cassiopeia!

And she dyed her hair purple!

"Why, I'm preparing myself! The chariot rides are almost here after all," I replied cheerfully.

Sandra didn't look as thrilled. "So, you still enjoy this? I haven't been here as long as you have, but you always have the spirit for it."

"Well, to me, it's roleplay. It's like commenting on wandering travelers going on an adventure. It's pretty fun," I said as she raised her brow dubiously. I looked at her without a smile. "Also, I get paid."

Sandra nodded after that.

There's a green light that tells us to go on.

Showtime!

"Welcome Panem, this is Marvin Snyder here. The Shadow Announcer. The Dayslayer. The best Game Master of Panem-"

Sandra cut me off. "Yes, yes Marvin, you're a huge nerd. We get it," I laughed to show no offense from cutting me off. Then Sandra showed her full white-pearled smile. "Now, on to the 172nd Hunger Games and the tributes shall we. Or rather the chariot rides."

And the chariot rides went.

There was Bliss Lustra and Silver Chase. The two of them were colorfully made into royalty. They had royal garments, which included crowns and Pre-Panem look on how kings and queens were supposed to look. Both of them crossed their arms, looking menacingly at the crowd with their cold eyes. The crowd loved it.

After them, is District Two. Unlike the One careers, Roxy Flint and Somnus Marbrand went on to wave at the crowd. The two of them dressed as statues. They were sprayed with greyish stone color, which made them look like automated statues. Statues that smiled, of course, even if Roxy looked more enthusiastic than Somnus does with her waving. Somnus looked as if he's doing this as if he was routined. Not many, if barely anyone, could tell the difference, but I can see a false smile when I see it.

On towards District Three. Veta Del Mina and Dorian Fleece were uncomfortable in their outfits. They were robots (so stereotypical), robots with steel plating and wires which look as if it either itched or scratched if either of them moves. Their chariot, however, looked futuristic if the _robot horses_ pulling it was any distinction. Wonder how much it cost?

District Four had costumes that were horrifyingly expected. Delmara Lum and Anet Bennet are both dressed as mermaids. The former looked annoyed while the latter was uncomfortable. Not too embarrassing, but the kelp on them must be something itchy. In any case, it could have been worse.

Zyra Koore and Volt Nightingale was next. The district Five pair certainly caught more attention than anticipated. Both of them are wearing silvery dresses, and not only that but the dresses glittered. Next thing that happened, an electric shock was heard, and the chariot had little lightning bolts coming off of it. The crowd screamed as the two waved.

"Now, that's what I call a _shocker_!" I jocked.

Sandra groaned, "God, that was horrible, Snyder." She did have a smile, however.

Next up was District Six, and for the record, there was steam coming out the back of their heavily designed black chariot. It looked like a train. And obviously, Jaeden Rota and Moira Balise were conductors. Both were waving accordingly. Jaeden looked nervous while Moira waved more steadily, almost robotically.

Then came District Seven...

"Wow..."

I overheard my fellow announcer, and couldn't help but nod, "Yeah, this is quite...," I tried to find the words, "a _popular_ design."

The District Seven pair are, unsurprisingly trees. Both Taliah Marik and Aspen Wolfe were heavily embarrassed with the brown paint that covered their bodies and some sticky leaves on them. The crowd of Capitolites wasn't cheering as much as before.

"I mean, they could be dryads or something else?" I guessed optimistically.

"Do you honestly believe that?" Sandra asked drily.

The stylists are pretty well-known in the workplace as the brainless bunch, Seven's stylists more so for their lack of creativity. "No," I said and left it at that.

Onto District Eight. Now, for the most part, Hadley Holbrook and Marron Deinan looked like mummies (except their faces). Mummies wrapped with a bunch of red ribbons. Both of them don't look too happy being here, but then Marron seemed to have said something to Hadley, then one thing led to another, Hadley _kicked_ Marron off the chariot. They was a couple of 'Ooooh' when Marron landed. He was perfectly fine, but very red-faced and now glaring at Hadley. The girl grinned, and a lot of Capitolites laughed, Sandra and I included.

After that entertaining debacle, it was District Nine's chariot to see. Daisy Grove, an adorable little thing, was... a daisy. She had flower petals around her face and symmetrical grass around her. Kalvin Kanstine, however, looked like a gardener. Both of them were waving, and well, the design looked interesting enough. Then Kalvin had a watering can in his hand, put it above his district partner, and he used it to spray Daisy. Daisy, unlike Marron, laughed at this silly prank, and the crowd cheered and laughed louder at the two.

Doe and Buck Adler, the twins from District 10 were up. They were wearing wool trenchcoats, which fit quite well and made the two of them almost imposing. _Almost_. Buck was sweating and looked a bit under the weather. He almost fell off the chariot before Doe managed to catch him. The crowd cheered at that, unhelpfully. Doe didn't look all that amused or happy when she was looking with concern at her brother.

Calliope Germaine and Cristian Moldovan were farmers. Overalls and straw hat. Nothing special with District Eleven. They were overshadowed by the chariots in front of them. Nevertheless, they waved to the crowd as they should do. They do need sponsors.

District 12, last but not least, came up a bit unexpected. Iry Hawkfeather and Cole Lynderly were dressed up as bats. Or vampires? Iry had some sharp teeth on her, looking at the crowd and smiling. Cole looked away from everyone, muttering to himself. Weird kids.

"Now, tributes," President Chambers's voice was heard, as every year from his podium.

"Let the 172nd commence!"

The crowd goes wild.

And my work here is done!

I clicked the off button, and the radio network is over.

I stretched, pulling my arms behind my head. Looking at Sandra, who's tenser than usual, "Something wrong? You're not worried about the tributes' fates, right?"

The famed interviewer scoffed at that. " _No_. Ew. No. District rats are meant for the Capitol's entertainment. Why would I be worried about them?"

Hiding my doubt, I nodded. I would believe Sandra more if I haven't seen her get drunk and drive her home almost every few years after the Hunger Games ends. She always names a favorite or a younger tribute who dies and whispers that the Hunger Games were unfair. Whether it's out of actual empathy or tribute favoritism, I don't know.

"So what are you thinking about?" I asked.

"Aaron," she answered.

"I thought you were gay."

"It's not about that!" she shouted, clearly shocked by my unexpected response. I smiled. She whacked me on my arm. "Snow's beard. No. Never that. It's just I don't know all that much about him. You know. I think he has a brother or something, but that's it."

I hummed. "Why do you want to know?"

"Why not?" she countered. "I mean, he could've been the Head Gamemaker. He _should_ be the Head Gamemaker, why isn't he? Why is he so closed off all the time?"

Shrugging, I don't particularly want to talk to Aaron too much. He scares me, even now. Always so serious. But it sounded like Sandra is determined to do something. "Sounds personal. Maybe you shouldn't look too deeply into it."

Sandra looked at the crowd. "Nah. I'm going to. I'm going to find Aaron's secrets."

Can't say I didn't warn her.

Maybe it's to distract her from troubles admitting she doesn't like the Hunger Games, maybe she's always been this nosy. Who knows?

...

I stared at the crowd with my brown eyes. You know, there was a time before Chambers. I remember Potter's presidentship, a man we _voted_ for and where people could've spoken more freely. There was a short time where everyone can travel whenever they want. It was a wonderful time.

Now, it's back to this. Back to a system of fear similar to Snow's government. Afraid of speaking a little in any defense of the Districts. Afraid of being punished by Chambers's regiment.

The tributes. The mentors. Aaron. Sandra. We're all paying for living in this country, being frightened into it. Perhaps Sandra doesn't care, but I at least wish everyone luck. My job is nothing more than being a commentator and counting down a number, but I see things not many want to.

Indeed. Wishing luck to the unfortunate is the least I can do since that's the only thing I _can_ do.

Sweet _Buddha_ , why did I spill that coffee? This job sucks sometimes.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Yeah, and my demon is slothfulness. Needs fixing.**

 **In any case, a new chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. Did you find anything interesting? Silly? Or funny about any of the chariots?**

 **I also want to thank _Kay of Arda_ and _EmberLex_ for their support. **


End file.
